


The Surrogate Sister

by msvallawton



Series: The Surrogate Sister Series [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Original Character Death(s), Original Character(s), Original Female Character(s) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-24 13:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1606856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msvallawton/pseuds/msvallawton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When young protagonist Victoria arrives at 221B Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes and his blogger,  John Watson, find themselves opening an international can of worms that the pompous Mycroft Holmes has been trying to keep sealed for more than a decade. The two detectives and Victoria delve deep into the past to figure out why a formerly elusive gang of cutthroats has surfaced in London and the schemes they are so desperately trying to put in motion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

As the sun sets on a typical October evening, people begin to pack up and file out of Scotland Yard to go home. It’s been another long day, with everyone running around, working on another unsolved murder case. Lestrade decides to stay a while longer, frustrated that he can’t figure anything out, but too stubborn to call Sherlock in for help.

A girl walks into the station. She’s wearing a plain, black sweatshirt and black skinny jeans that are ripped, but clearly not as a fashion statement. Her hood is up in an attempt to hide her long, dark brown hair, which seems to not have been washed or brushed for days. Her beat up, old, black Converse squeak as she scurries across the tile floor. She wears a soft, polite smile as she approaches the woman at the front desk, but a state of urgency is shown in her eyes. With her hands in her sweatshirt pocket, she asks the woman if she may speak to Detective Inspector Lestrade.

“I’m sorry, dearie, but he’s not available.”

But she needs to talk to him. It’s important.

“Well, I’m sorry, but he wishes to not be bothered at this time. If you’d like, you can sit in one of those chairs over there and wait.”

The smile wipes from the girl’s face as she places her hands pointedly on the desk, leaning in close. Not once losing eye contact, she speaks to the woman in a very serious tone, her voice near a whisper. Color drains from the woman’s face as she slowly begins to sit up straight. She hesitantly points in the direction of Lestrade’s office. The girl puts her hands back into her pocket and smiles her sweet smile. She thanks the woman as she walks away.

Lestrade is sitting at his desk, staring at the paperwork and files that are laid out in front of him. He breathes out a frustrated sigh when there’s a knock at his office door. 

“What?”

The office door opens and shuts, but no words are spoken. Lestrade doesn’t bother to look up.

“Yes?”

“I need your help.”

“I’m sorry,” his eyes still on his desk. “I can’t help you right now.”

The girl walks over to him. She takes out a ripped piece of paper with scribbles on it from her pocket and places it on his desk. “I need you to take me here, please.” American. Lestrade notices her strong American accent, possibly from the west coast. This is simply not the time or place for a tourist to get directions.

“Sorry, not my division.”

“Please.”

Lestrade looks up to find the girl’s pleading eyes locked on his. He sighs and grabs the piece of paper on the desk. He reads the address scribbled onto it.

 

_221b Baker Street_

 

Lestrade looks back up at the girl, confused.

“Sherlock?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And just to clarify, this takes place post TRF. Sherlock has been back for some time, but John has not met Mary yet. (I started writing this before Series 3 released, so...)


	2. Prologue

Sherlock and John come home to find Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson chatting in the room.

“Got another case for me, Inspector?” Sherlock asks as he removes his coat and scarf, placing them on the coat hooks. “I’ve been quite bored lately.”

“Actually,” Lestrade puts his hands behind his back. “You’ve got yourself a visitor.”

Sherlock glances over at the couch. A young woman dressed in all black stares at her hands placed on her lap. She looks up, meeting his gaze, and smiles.

“Hello.”

“And you are…?” John asks as he removes his coat.

“Victoria,” she replies, her eyes still locked on Sherlock’s.

“And what do you need?” Sherlock asks with a raised eyebrow, studying her curiously. “You traveled here from the States, so I assume this is something of importance.”

Victoria stares at Sherlock for a moment before she looks back down at her hands. “Do you remember what you were doing October of 2002, Mr. Holmes?”

“Of course.” Sherlock plops down onto his chair, his palms together with his fingers resting on his chin. “Lestrade had brought me a case.”

“Case?” John asks.

Sherlock closes his eyes in thought. “It was a hostage case. Twenty people were kidnapped from the States and taken to the UK. All were relatives of people who worked for the government. High-ranking people.” He turns his head slightly. “You remember, don’t you Inspector?”

“Of course.” Lestrade puts his hands in his pockets.

“And what did these criminals want?” John asks, crossing his arms.

“Weapons.” Sherlock responds. “Weapons only special forces had access to.”

“So, what happened?” John raises his eyebrow.

“Well, obviously, the United States government wasn’t going to hand over some of the most exclusive and dangerous weapons to a group of terrorists. So, in return, the criminals threatened to kill every single hostage if their needs weren’t met by a certain time. Lestrade came to me, giving me less than 24 hours to find where the hostages were being held.

John turns to Lestrade. “And did you find them?”

“Well-”

“Yes.” Sherlock interrupts. “With a couple hours to spare. But we were too late. Upon entering the abandoned factory in which they were being held, we found all the captives dead. They lied. They killed their hostages days before they released their threat.”

“All but one.” Lestrade interjects.

Sherlock’s eyes fly open.

“We found a little girl, eight or nine years old, tied-up and blindfolded in a closet-type area. She wasn’t in the best shape, but she was lucky to be alive.” Lestrade continues.

Sherlock turns his head and looks at the girl on the couch. Victoria raises her head. They’re eyes meet.

“And what happened to her?” John asks.

“She went home. But she died years later in a major car crash.” Lestrade breathes out a sigh.

“Wrong.”

Everyone turns to Sherlock, whose eyes are locked on Victoria’s.

“Wrong what?” John and Lestrade ask simultaneously.

“I believe she’s sitting right here on my couch.”

Now everyone turns to Victoria.

“Hello, Tory.”

“Hello, Sherlock.”

“Long time no see.”

“Yeah, well, I would have visited if I hadn’t have run into some complications.”

“Wait, what is going on?!” John asks, frustrated that he, again, is out of the loop.

“So why did you fake it?” Sherlock, ignoring John’s comment, stands up and puts his hands behind his back.

“You want the full story? It’s quite long.”

“Full story.” Sherlock turns and begins pacing about the room.

“Ok, uhm…” Victoria put her hands in her sweatshirt pocket and sits up straight. She looks off to the side, deep in thought. “Well… I guess I’ll start by saying I was never really ‘safe’ when I got home.”

“What do you mean?” Lestrade asks.

“I was constantly being watched. I could feel it. It wasn’t until I was actually chased through a park at nine o’clock at night that I knew something was up. And all this happens not even a year after I get back. For three years, I couldn’t go outside or do anything without being overly paranoid. It got to a point where I didn’t even feel safe in my own home.

“So one night, I was out with my family, and I decided to go home early because I didn’t feel well. So I called a cab. Huge mistake. I got in and the driver turned to me with an evil smile on his face. He was one of the men that chased me that night. He drew his gun and pointed it at me the whole drive to wherever he was going to take me. I couldn’t do anything. We ended up in an empty parking lot out in the middle of nowhere.”

“And someone saved you,” Sherlock states, still pacing about the room.

“Yes,” Victoria continues. “Eventually two cars made their way into the lot. Mysterious, criminal-like men stepped out of these cars and started walking towards the cab. I didn’t really get a good look at them, it was close to midnight, and the parking lot lights were crappy. All of a sudden, this woman came out of nowhere and just… kicked all their asses. She knocked out the driver, threw him out of the cab, and just started driving.”

“Who was the woman?” John asks.

“She introduced herself as Ava. British. Said she was a close ‘friend’ of my parents, and that she vowed to keep me safe no matter what. She insisted that I leave town – well, country – and come with her. She said it was the best thing to do to keep my loved ones safe.”

“So, you faked your own death.”

“Yeah. Well, I mean, Ava did all the planning… but, yeah. I changed my name and we made our way to Paris. You know,” Victoria smiles. “It wasn’t really that bad spending eight years with a trained assassin.”

John raises his eyebrows in shock. He’s silent for a few moments, and then asks, “So, what happened next?”

Victoria looks up at John and looks him dead in the eye, her expression hard. “They found me.” She pauses for a moment. "Even with the protection I had, they found me, captured Ava, tortured and questioned her, and eventually killed her because she refused to give up information. So that left me on the run for a year or so.” She switches her gaze to Sherlock. “But then I came across an article about you. I figured that since you helped me once… maybe you could help me again.”

Sherlock turns to Victoria, “And what exactly is it you need help with?”

“I’m being chased, but I don’t know why. I was the ONLY person, out of twenty hostages, to survive. They kept me alive for some reason. They want something from me, and I have absolutely no idea what it is.”

“Hmm.” Sherlock begins pacing again. “John, what do you think?”

“Well,” John uncrosses his arms and puts his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know. This seems quite dangerous.”

“Everything we do is dangerous, John.”

“Please. I need you, Sherlock.”

Sherlock turns at Victoria’s plea and they hold eye contact. The others in the room stare at Sherlock, awaiting an answer.

After a few moments, Sherlock turns to Mrs. Hudson. “Would you mind preparing a place for Victoria to sleep? She’ll be staying her for a while.”

“Oh, of course!” Mrs. Hudson smiles. “I’ll grab some sheets for the couch.”

“Perfect.” Sherlock watches as Mrs. Hudson hurriedly walks out the room.

John and Lestrade look at each other, unsure of the situation. Lestrade breathes out a sigh and just shrugs. John shakes his head and walks over to the kitchen to brew some tea.

Sherlock turns to Victoria and she smiles.

“Thank you.”

Sherlock responds with a quick, crooked smile.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, John walks into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea.

“Good morning, John.”

John peaks over to the living room to find Victoria sitting criss-cross on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her. Her hair is wet, as if she had just taken a shower, and a laptop sits on her lap.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I had to borrow your laptop,” Victoria says, not bothering to look up from the computer screen.

“That’s fine but, uh,” John raises his eyebrow. “How did you log in?”

“Well, maybe you should stop making your password the names of your ex-girlfriends.” Sherlock walks into the room from behind John, startling him. Victoria just chuckles.

“Wait… but how would you…” John sighs. “Nevermind. What exactly are you doing with my laptop anyway?”

Victoria rolls her eyes and looks up at John. “Well if you must know, I’m hacking into super top secret stuff.”

Noting the sarcasm in her voice, John sighs and says “Well, if that’s all, I guess you may continue.”

“And I will.” And with that, Victoria looks back down at the screen and resumes typing.

John turns to Sherlock, who is sitting in his chair, violin in hand. “So, what’s the plan?”

Sherlock looks up at John. “Plan?”

“Yes, plan. You know, to help Victoria?”

“Oh,” Sherlock goes back to his violin. “Don’t have one yet.” He begins to play his violin.

“Of course you don't.” John sighs and makes his way back to the kitchen.

A few minutes pass until Victoria stops typing and moans, annoyed.

“Shit.”

Sherlock stops with his violin and looks at her. John comes back with his cup of tea. “What?”

Victoria turns to Sherlock. “Uhm… expect a call from your brother in about-“

Sherlock’s phone rings.

“Now.”

Sherlock takes out his cellphone and answers the call. “Hello, dear brother.”

_"Why are you trying to hack into highly classified government files?"_

Sherlock smirks. “Oh, I’m not.”

_"Oh really. You expect me to believe John is doing this?"_

“Actually,” Sherlock glances over at Victoria. She puts the laptop down on the coffee table and motions for Sherlock to give her the phone. He gets up and hands her the cellphone.

“Hello, Mycroft.”

_"Oh, hello. And you are…"_

“Victoria, remember me? Yeah, I’m the one who took John’s laptop. Did you get my message?”

John walks over to Sherlock with a confused look on his face. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“She hacked into some government files and caught Mycroft’s attention.” Sherlock’s eyes observe Victoria, who does not look pleased.

“Wait… she wasn’t kidding?”

Sherlock smirks, “Apparently not.”

“Are you serious?” Victoria asks, upset. The boys look at her.

_"I’m sorry. I don’t have authorization."_

Victoria breathes a deep sigh. “Fine. Thanks anyway.” She hangs up and tosses the phone back at Sherlock. At the same time, Mrs. Hudson comes in with a pile of clothes in hand.

“Here you go, dearie.” She places the clothes on the couch. “I washed your clothes. I also found some old clothes that my daughter used to wear.”

Victoria smiles. “Thank you so much Mrs. Hudson.”

“Oh, not a problem. I just hope they fit. You look about her size.”

“I can go try them on now, if you’d like.”

“Oh, no, that’s unnecessary.”

“No, it’s fine.” Victoria unwraps the blanket, sets it aside, and stands up. “I want to get out of these sweats anyway. Thank you, again, for loaning them to me.”

“You are very welcome, dearie.” Mrs. Hudson smiles. “And you can keep these other clothes. I have no need for them.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.” Victoria grabs the pile of clothes and heads out of the room towards the bathroom.

Mrs. Hudson turns towards the boys. “She’s a very sweet girl. I hope she stays here a while, I quite like her.” She turns and walks out of the room.

Sherlock calls after her, “Oh, Mrs. Hudson! We’re out of milk!”

Mrs. Hudson shouts back from downstairs, “Not your housekeeper!”

Sherlock turns to John and shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

John sits down in the chair across from his flatmate and takes a sip of his tea. “So, tell me, why are we helping her?”

“Why not? We have nothing else better to do.”

“Seriously, Sherlock. You didn’t hesitate at all when she asked. Is there some kind of debt you need to pay or-”

“Why I chose to help her isn’t relevant, John.”

“Alright, fine.” John takes another sip. “I’ll stop asking.”

“Thank you.” Sherlock’s phone chirps and he whips it out to read the incoming text.

Victoria walks in wearing her black skinny jeans, a white knit sweater, and a tan faux leather jacket. She walks over to the mirror over the fireplace and pulls her hair up into a ponytail. She inspects her clothes through the mirror. “This’ll do.”

“That looks nice.” John

“I don’t think I asked for your opinion,” she turns to John with a fake smile. “But thanks.” She walks over to the couch and puts on her converse. John just stares at her, feeling a bit offended.

“We have another case.” Sherlock jumps up from his chair and glides over to the door to grab his coat and scarf. “C’mon John.”

John places his tea on the side table and gets up.

“Tory, you’re coming with us.” Sherlock states as he puts on his scarf.

“What? Why?” John looks at Sherlock as he grabs his coat from the rack.

“Because, John, it would be absolutely stupid to leave her out of our sight when people are out to get her. Think, John.” Sherlock rushes out the room. Victoria follows, flashing John a victorious smile. John breathes out an annoyed huff and walks out of the room.


	4. Chapter 4

“Took you long enough,” Lestrade calls out to the trio walking towards the scene.

“Sorry,” Sherlock replies in a monotonous tone, inspecting the exterior of the abandoned concrete building standing before them. “Ran into some traffic.”

“Well, Anderson is almost finished.” Lestrade turns to Victoria. “Hello again, Victoria.”

“Hello, Inspector,” she replies, also staring at the building.

Lestrade turns to John, eyebrow raised. John just puts his hands in his pockets and shrugs.

“Ah, now isn’t it everyone’s favorite psychopath.” Anderson walks out of the building and makes his way to the group. He smiles sarcastically, “So glad you’ve finally come.”

“High functioning sociopath, Anderson.”

Anderson rolls his eyes and looks at Victoria. “Who’s this

“She’s with us.”

“Well who is she?”

Victoria doesn’t respond. Sherlock looks over at her, and then at Anderson. “Her name is Victoria.”

“Well, she’s not allowed here at the crime scene.”

“She’s alright, Anderson,” Lestrade says. “She’ll be staying behind with me, anyway.”

Anderson lets out a huff and studies Victoria, who is blankly staring at the building. Sherlock glances at her and notices her hands clenched in tight fists.

“Tory.”

Victoria snaps out of her trance and she relaxes her hands. “I think I should go inside with you.”

“But you can’t,” Anderson says.

“But I should,” Victoria snaps, looking Anderson straight in the eye. She turns to Sherlock. “Trust me.”

Sherlock and Victoria turn to Lestrade, who waves it off. “Fine. Go.”

Sherlock looks at John. “Stay here with Lestrade. We shouldn’t be long.”

The three men watch as Sherlock and Victoria turn their heels and make their way to the entrance, disappearing into the building. Anderson rolls his eyes and follows them in.

John turns to Lestrade, frustrated. “Ok, what’s up with them?”

“What do you mean?”

“Is there something that I’m missing here? Because really I’m feeling out of the loop right now.”

“Ah,” Lestrade crosses his arms. “He didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Tell me what?”

“That night we found all the hostages, we didn’t bother to count up all the bodies. Not at first, at least. Sherlock knew right away that someone was missing, so he searched the whole factory on his own while we did our usual examining-the-bodies procedure. He eventually found Victoria and carried her to one of the ambulances. She was not at all in a good state. She was trembling and in complete shock, and Sherlock… comforted her. He stayed by her side, held her in his arms, and comforted her.” Lestrade paused. “And you well know that isn’t typical Sherlock behavior.”

“Hmm,” John nods and crosses his arms.

“She was taken to a hospital and Sherlock came with us back to the Yard. We tried to contact her parents or any type of family she may have, but we couldn’t reach anyone. Sherlock then got a call from Mycroft. He informed us that during Victoria’s hiatus, her parents were brutally murdered in their own home.”

“Why would Mycroft be the one to tell you?”

“They were agents from the CIA. He knew them quite well, actually.”

“So… she’s an orphan.”

“Yeah,” Lestrade uncrosses his arms and puts his hands in his pockets. “And Sherlock, right of the bat, offered to look after her until we could find her a home back in the States.”

“Huh…” John’s eyebrows creased in thought.

“So she stayed with him for a few weeks until close family friends offered to take her in. She didn’t want to leave, though.” Lestrade sighed. “And he didn’t want to let her go… That was the first time I ever saw emotion out of that man.”

John switched his gaze over to the entrance to the building, deep in thought.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Sherlock and Victoria, shortly followed by Anderson, enter a room. The smell of rotting flesh and blood mixed with harsh chemicals fill their lungs. Sherlock and Anderson make their way to the lifeless body lying face down in the middle of the room. It was a man, shirtless, and with scrapes and burns all along his back.

Victoria freezes the moment she sets foot in the room. Her face drains of color and her eyes fill with panic as she frantically scans the room. She becomes anxious as her nails dig into her palms.

Sherlock looks up and notices her strange behavior. “Tory?”

Victoria doesn’t respond. Her breath quickens.

Sherlock makes his way towards her. “Victoria?”

“I’ve been here before.”

“What?” Anderson crosses his arms and walks towards her. “When?”

“They took us here…” She manages to mumble, her voice shaky. She still scanned the room in terror, as if scenes were being played before her eyes. “This was the first place they… they…”

“Who?” Sherlock asks in a gentle voice, slowly inching closer to her.

“Whips… water… boarding… knives… acid…” Victoria’s heart begins to pound loud enough that she was sure the other two could hear. She shakes her head, tears welling up in her eyes. “No… no, please no… No!” Victoria starts to flail her arms. “NO! STOP NO! PLEASE!”

“Victoria!” Sherlock grabs her wrists. She snaps out of her flashback and her body relaxes.

She looks up at Sherlock, tears rolling down her face. “I… I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok. You’re ok now.”

“No.” Victoria twists her arms out of Sherlock’s grip and makes her way to the dead man’s body. “This is all a message.” She wraps her arms around herself, her back to the two men. “A message for me.”

“And how could you be so sure?” Anderson asks.

“Well, Anderson,” she turns to face him, saying his name in a harsh tone. “Don’t waste your time trying to figure out who this man is. His identity unimportant. He’s just some unfortunate homeless bum they picked up off the street. What’s important was how he was treated.” Victoria points to the man’s back. “These marks on his back? They’re from whips. The same whips…” Victoria closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. She opens her eyes. “They were used as punishment, and usually followed by pouring some form of acid down the back. Also,” Victoria kneels down beside the body. “His right forearm.” She lifts the arm to reveal a symbol cut into the flesh. She dropps the arm and rolls up her right sleeve to show a scar of the same symbol carved onto her arm. “The same scar they left on me and the other nineteen hostages. It’s their symbol.” She rolls her sleeve down and stands up. “And the very suggestive threat written in blood on the wall behind you seems quite suggestive."

_You can’t hide forever, Victoria_

Victoria walks up to Anderson, a cold look on her face. “Enough proof for you?” She turns to Sherlock. “I’m done.” She storms out of the room, leaving Anderson and Sherlock speechless.

Anderson clears his throat. “Charming girl you got there.”

Sherlock ignores the comment and continues observing the body.

\------------------------------------------------------------------

Victoria rushes out the building entrance and makes her way towards John and Lestrade, her arms crossed. She stands next to John and stares at the building.

“You ok?”

“I’m fine.”

Sherlock glides out of the entrance, walking at a fast, yet determined pace. He takes off his latex gloves and throws them inside one of the police cars.

“Anything?” Lestrade asks when Sherlock meets the group.

Sherlock turns to Victoria. “How much do you know about Ancient Egypt?”

She looks at him, confused. “What?”

“Never mind.” Sherlock turns to Lestrade. “We’ll keep in touch.” And with that, Sherlock turns and walks away, with John and Victoria following behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

The door to the flat opens and Sherlock barges in, grabs John’s laptop from the coffee table, and sits at the desk. The other two trail in a moment later.

“Can’t you just use your own laptop?” John asks.

“Nope.” Sherlock replies, fingers flying across the keyboard.

“It’s in the kitchen.” John points to Sherlock’s laptop sitting on the kitchen table.

“Too far. This was more convenient.”

John sighs and drops his arm. He walks over to his chair, sits, and massages his temples. Victoria crosses her arms and makes her way to the couch.

She looks over at Sherlock, who is deeply concentrated on whatever is on the computer screen. “You were pretty quiet the whole cab ride home. What were you doing on that phone of yours?”

“Research, “ Sherlock replies, clearly not interested in conversation.

“Okay…” She uncrosses her arms and starts rubbing her thighs, feeling uncomfortable by the awkward silence. John just chuckles to himself.

After a few moments, Sherlock looks up from the screen at Victoria. “May I see your arm?”

Caught off guard by the request, Victoria begins to unconsciously rub her right forearm. She hesitates, and then answers, “Uh… sure.” She gets up and walks over to Sherlock, slowly rolling her right sleeve. She presents her arm to Sherlock, who grabs it and pulls her closer to him. He studies the marks carved into her skin, witching his gaze between her arm and the laptop.

He notices veins sticking out of her wrists and her hand in a tight clutch. “How are you feeling?” he asks, still studying the symbols.

“I’m fine,” Victoria responds quickly, her voice harsh and unconvincing.

In the corner of his eye, Sherlock notices Victoria clutching and tugging at the bottom of her knit sweater. He puts his focus on her fist and gently smoothes out her fingers, examining her palm. Droplets of blood seeped through opened scars that were left by the constant piercing of skin by her nails.

Victoria jerks her arm out of Sherlock’s grasp. “You done?”

“Yes.”

Victoria quickly rolls down her sleeve and walks back over to the couch. She sits and stares at her palm resting on her lap. John watches Victoria, his brows scrunched in concern. He looks at Sherlock, who has already gone back to the laptop. “Find anything?”

“Hieroglyphs.”

“I’m sorry?”

Victoria raises her head and looks at Sherlock. Knowing he has both their attentions, he continues. “The symbols are hieroglyphs. They stand for the Ancient Egyptian goddess Sekhmet, who was the goddess of war, vengeance, and destruction, as well as many other things, but those are unimportant. There is a tale in which the sun god Re set his pet, Sekhmet, to slay the men who were plotting against him. She got carried away, however, and began a murderous rampage leading up to the possible slaughter of all of mankind. She was a violent one. She would butcher the men and drink their blood, and enjoyed herself as well. To stop her, Re filled a lake with a mixture of beer and pomegranate juice, which she mistook for blood and drank. She became intoxicated, calmed, and abandoned the slaughter. She would also set plagues among the people and later cure them out of utter boredom.”

“Looks like the two of you have a bit in common,” John comments.

Sherlock looks pointedly at John, forcing John to look away uncomfortably. Sherlock continues, “So why is this all significant? Well given the fact that they would pick such a symbol shows they are a group fueled by vengeance. The marks were carved deep, but with much precision, meaning that Sekhmet is more than just a symbol to them.” He looks over at Victoria. “And I assume no anesthetics were used.” Victoria looks away, giving Sherlock a silent answer. “And they held no mercy for the murdered hostages either, given the way that they were killed, which means they are a callous, bloodthirsty group of terrorists. Possibly very dangerous.”

“Possibly?” John scoffs.

“Maybe a little more that possible, then”

“Then what is it they want with Victoria?

“I don’t know…” Sherlock leans back in his chair and puts his palms together, resting his fingers on his chin. He closes his eyes and begins to think.

“Knock knock!” A cheerful Mrs. Hudson knocks on the open door, holding a small cardboard box.

“What?” Sherlock asks in a frustrated tone.

“There’s a package here for you, dearie.”

“Give it to John.”

Mrs. Hudson walks over to John and hands him the package. She turns to Victoria, examines her, and smiles. “That outfit looks very nice on you, dear.”

Victoria looks up and smiles. “Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.”

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you boys to it,” Mrs. Hudson says as she leaves the room.

John holds the package, unsure of what to do with it.

“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Sherlock asks.

“Oh, right.” John takes out his keys, cuts through the tape, and opens the box.

“What is it?”

John looks at the package, confused. “They’re shoes.”

Sherlock’s eyes fly open and he looks over at John. “What?”

“Someone sent you a pair of primsolls.” John pulls out the shoes.

“Here, hand them to me.” John tosses the shoes to Sherlock, who immediately begins to study them. They are a dark, navy blue. They are very old with the fabric falling apart and the soles worn down. These were possibly worn very often. She examines the in inside of the shoe, searching for a size. “Tory, do you recognize these?” He held them up in front of him.

Victoria looks up and squints. “Oh, yeah. Those are…” her brows creased in confusion. “…mine.” She gets up and walks over to Sherlock. “Here, give me one of them.”

Sherlock tosses her the right shoe. She takes it and studies it, running her fingers across the torn fabric and the filthy shoelaces. “Yeah. These are mine.”

John looks back into the box and pulls out a small envelope with a name scribbled on it. “Victoria.” Victoria turns to John, who holds out the envelope in front of him. “This is for you.”

Victoria takes the envelope and rips it open. She pulls out a small card and reads the note. She freezes.

“What? What is it?” John asks.

Victoria hands John the card and begins quickly pacing about the room.

_We’re coming_

John looks up from the card to find Victoria standing over him with her hand out. “I need your phone.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he won’t pick up if I use Sherlock’s. Your phone, please.”

Fluffing off her rude, demanding tone, John reaches into his pocket, grabs his phone, and places it in her hand.

“Thanks.” Victoria takes it and immediately dials.

“And may I ask who you are calling?”

“Does it matter?” Victoria responds, raising the phone to her ear. “Oh, hello! It’s me again.” John and Sherlock watch as she starts to pace the room. “Oh, no no no. Don’t start with that again. I know you can help me. You just don’t want to. There’s a difference there, Mycroft.” The boys watch as she walks into the kitchen and continues her conversation.

John turns to Sherlock. “Do you think there’s something she’s not telling us?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. She used to work with a rogue British spy-turned-assassin. She‘s had enough time to master the art of deceit. How are you so sure that we can trust her?”

“Authorization MY ASS!”

John and Sherlock look over to the kitchen to find a steaming Victoria. She had managed to grab a knife and stabbed the wooden table. Realizing that eyes were watching her, she releases her hold on the knife. “Sorry… – No, not you!” She turns around and speaks in a more hushed tone. “You owe me Mycroft… Keep in mind that you have a pretty big debt to pay. You’re welcome for that.” She hangs up the phone. She turns around and looks at the knife wedged into the wood, sticking straight up. She looks at the boys with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, got a bit carried away there.”

John turns back around and looks at Sherlock, eyebrow raised. Sherlock just glares back and shrugs.

Victoria makes her way over to the boys. Before she could hand the phone back to John, it rings. “It’s a blocked number. Probably Mycroft.” She brings the phone to her ear. “Did you change your mind?”

…

“Hello?”

…

“Hellooo?”

_"…Victoria?"_

Color drains from Victoria’s face as she recognizes the voice. John and Sherlock note the panic and confusion in her expression. It takes her a few moments before she can speak any words.

“…David?”

The phone clicks and the call ends. Victoria slowly lowers the phone from her ear.

“Victoria, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, John, everything’s fine.”

“Who’s David?”

Victoria looks at Sherlock, ignoring John’s question. They’re eyes lock and they look at each other as if having a telepathic conversation. Sherlock slightly nods and Victoria turns to John and hands the phone back to him. “Thank you.”

“Who is David?”

“It’s really none of your concern, thank you.” Victoria snaps. She sighs and crosses her arms. “It’s almost four o’clock and I’ve eaten virtually nothing today. There’s no food anywhere in the kitchen, or in this whole flat for that matter. Can we go and get something to eat, please?”

“Sure.” Sherlock turns to John. “What do you think?”

John sighs and stands up. “Fine.”

“Awesome!” Victoria smiles as she watches Sherlock and John grab their coats. She puts her hands in her jacket pockets and follows the two men out of the building.


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock, John, and Victoria step out of the cab and stand before a small family-owned Italian restaurant.

“Why here?” John asks.

“The owner owes me a few favors.” Sherlock replies, examining the entrance.

“What did you do this time?”

“Got him out of a death sentence.” Sherlock turns to John. “Framed by his twin brother.”

“Ahh.” John nods and puts his hands in his pockets.

Sherlock, looking between John and Victoria, says, “Shall we?”

“Sophia?”

Victoria breathes an annoyed sigh and rolls her eyes. She turns around with a fake smile plastered on her face. A tall, scrawny young man slams his cab’s door and makes his way towards them. His big steps looked awkward with his long legs and a goofy smile is spread across his face. He is wearing khaki pants with a blue button up shirt. He pushes up his glasses and waves.

“Oh… Hello Jeffery!” Victoria greets him in a perfect British accent. John and Sherlock glance at each other and share a confused look.

“Wow!” Jeffery catches up and stands before Victoria, looking her over. “You look great!”

Feeling uncomfortable, she mutters, “Thanks.”

“Time has just flown by, hasn’t it? How long has it been since we last saw each other?”

“Not long enough,” Victoria mumbles under breath.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, nothing. How have you been? I heard about your father… quite a shame.”

“Oh, yeah…” Jeffery pauses and runs his fingers through his greasy, dirty-blonde hair. “Can you believe that he ran a drug cartel? My father, of all people!” Jeffery chuckles, snorting in the process.

“Yeah…” she starts to turn to leave. “Well it was nice –”

“What happened, Sophia? You disappeared all of a sudden and I never heard back from you?”

“I… uh… Ava got a job and we had to move to, uh, Paris and I, uh, lost your number… and your email… and really any way of contacting you.”

“Oh, what a shame.”

“Yup.” Victoria tries to leave again. “Um, well I better be –”

“Is that Sherlock Holmes?” Jeffery asks, eyes wide looking past Victoria. Before she could answer, he pushes Victoria to the side and walks towards Sherlock and John. “Oh, wow! _The_ Sherlock Holmes!” He takes Sherlock’s hand and starts shaking it. “I am a BIG fan!”

“Thank you.” Sherlock smiles a fake smile, feeling a bit annoyed. He looks at Victoria, who looks just as frustrated and flashes him an apologetic smile.

Jeffery releases Sherlock’s hand. “Oh! I have a reservation if you’d like to join me.” He gestures to the restaurant.

“A reservation for one?” John asks, eyebrow raised.

“Why, yes, of course.” Jeffery smiles and turns to Victoria. “Maybe you and I can do some catching up. I’ve really missed you.”

“We were actually just leaving.” Victoria says quickly, flashing Sherlock a ‘help me’ glare. Sherlock nods and proceeds to call a cab.

“Oh, so soon?” Jeffery slumps his shoulders in disappointment.

A cab pulls over and John and Sherlock quickly make their way inside. Victoria follows. “Yeah we’re… busy.”

“But when will I see you again?”

Victoria stands there holding the door open, one foot already inside, ready to slide into the cab. She puts on her fake smile again. “You know what? I’ll call you.”

“But you said –”

The cab door shuts and they drive away. Victoria rests her right elbow on the window and massages her temples. John opens his mouth to say something.

“Don’t.”

John closes his mouth, trying to hide his smile.

“Long story short, I had to date him for a job Ava and I had. Four months. We were the ones that put his father in prison.”

“Sophia?” John asks.

“Well, there’s no way in hell that I’m giving him my real name. That creep could hunt me down or something.” She sighs. “Ava quite enjoyed watching me suffer though. The poor boy never had a girlfriend before… and he didn’t know what to do once he had one.”

“Well… he seems," John clears his throat to hide his laugh. "Nice.”

Victoria glares at John. “Shut up before I punch you in the throat.”

Sherlock, also trying to stifle a smile, says “So… take-out then?”

“Sure.”

“Sounds good.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------

They arrive back at Baker Street, John holding their Chinese take-out. They enter the building and are greeted by Mrs. Hudson.

“Sherlock, dear, you have a visitor.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes. He knows exactly who it is. He storms up the stairs, skipping steps. Victoria smiles, also knowing, and she and John follow Sherlock up the stairs.

Sherlock walks through the open door. “What do you want, Mycroft?”

Mycroft sits in John’s chair, legs crossed and umbrella in right hand. “Can I not see my brother just to say hello?”

“No.” Sherlock makes his way to his chair and sits across from Mycroft.

“Mycroft Holmes.” Mycroft and Sherlock look towards the door. Victoria leans against the door frame, arms crossed. John inches past her and makes his way to the kitchen to drop off the bags of food. “How long has it been? Two years? I see you’ve lost some weight. Good for you.”

“Wait,” John walks into the living room. “You two know each other?”

“Of course we know each other. I used to work for him.” She looks at Mycroft. “Wait, do they…” she studies Mycroft’s face. “Aaah… they don’t know, do they? You didn’t even tell your own brother.” She smirks. “Well, the cat’s out of the bag, you have to tell them the whole story now. Or would you rather I tell them, because we both know that if I tell the story, I will say nothing but the whole truth. So, I would choose my words carefully Mr. Holmes.”

Mycroft frowns. He doesn’t quite like it when someone has the upper hand over him. He turns to Sherlock. “I hired her and Ava four years ago for a mission that I’m not at liberty to discuss about. It was a success and I offered the two jobs to work for me. Ava declined, which was expected from someone of her nature. Victoria, however, took my offer and became my right-hand secretary.”

“And body guard.” Victoria smiles.

“Yes, and that.” Mycroft responds, annoyed from the interruption. “I offered her the protection she needed, so it would have been foolish to decline anyway.”

“Ava wasn’t very… happy with my decision. So she went off on her own without me and I stayed here in London. We kept in touch, but I didn’t actually see her again until two years later.” She studied Mycroft’s body language. She smiles. “Well, if you won’t continue, I guess I shall. When Ava returned, she told me she had people she was working for, but couldn’t tell me much more than that. Which was fine by me. Our relationship was built off of secrecy.” She walks into the room and faces the men, leaning on the desk. “Ok, let’s just skip ahead then. Mycroft and Ava had an affair. I, honestly, never though a man like Mycroft could have those kinds of feelings… but it happened.” She looks at Mycroft. “Oh, by the way. Ava told me everything.” She smiles. “She said you need a little more practice.”

Mycroft looks away and Victoria chuckles. “Anyway, it wasn’t until a few weeks later that I found out what Ava was really up to. The people she was working for wanted Mycroft dead, and he almost walked right into their little trap. Lucky for him I caught on to their plan and was able to get him out of their before he got too far in.” Everyone looks at Mycroft, who avoids all eye contact. “I guess I can see why you wanted to keep this whole situation on the down-low. Doesn’t look to good for your reputation.”

John turns to Victoria. “So when you say he owes you…”

“Then I owe her as much as I can give her.” Mycroft answers.

“More than that, actually,” Victoria responds.

“I already told you –”

“You are fully capable of doing it. You just don’t want to get your perfect little hands dirty. It’s not that difficult to try to make some kind of arrangement with them.”

Mycroft breathes a frustrated sigh. “May I just get on with why I’m here in the first place?”

Victoria crosses her arms. “Might as well.”

“There is a suspicious group of terrorists roaming around London. I had men investigate, however, I think I already know why they’re here in London.” Mycroft looks between Sherlock and Victoria. “I’m sure you’re aware of The Eye of Re, correct?”

Victoria’s expression dropped and she began to clench her fists. It took Sherlock only a few moments to figure it out.

“I’m sorry,” John interjects. “Who?”

“The Eye of Re,” Sherlock says. “It’s another nickname for Sekhmet.” Sherlock turns to Victoria. John, after taking a few more moments to figure it out, looks up at her too.

Victoria glares at Mycroft. “I don’t need your protection if that’s what you’re hinting at.” Mycroft opens his mouth to protest, but Victoria interrupts, “I mean, I deeply appreciate the protection you’ve given me in the past, but it’s too dangerous now. I can take care of myself. I have for the past year or so.”

“Fine.” Mycroft sighs. “Do you have any idea why they’re after you?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Hmm…” Mycroft pauses, enveloped in thought. “Oh, and before I forget. You remember Andrew, don’t you?”

Victoria’s interest perks up. “Yes, of course. Why?”

“He’s in town.”

“Oh.” Victoria tries to hide the shock in her voice.

“I wouldn’t meet him, though. A bit risky, don’t you think?”

Victoria flashes Mycroft an ‘are you kidding me’ look. 

The two brothers stare at each other in silence for several minutes, almost as if they were conversing through telepathy. Sherlock smiles, “So… Mycroft. You’ve been up to more than you’ve been letting on.”

Mycroft frowns and stands up. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Well you had time for plenty of other things.” Sherlock stands, his expression showing that he’s enjoying this way too much. “What was it that you told me once? ‘Caring is not an advantage’? You know how we feel about sentiment, brother mine.”

Victoria gets up from leaning on the desk and looks at Sherlock and John, as if she were waiting for something. “Well, c’mon then. Let’s go!”

“And where are we going?” John asks.

Victoria looks at Mycroft when she answers, “To see an old friend.”

John and Sherlock just nod and walk out the door. Victoria goes to follow them, but Mycroft grabs her arm and stops her.

“I’ll do it,” Mycroft says in a low voice.

“What?” Victoria is a bit surprised.

“I’ll do it.”

Victoria looks at Mycroft in disbelief. Why does he change his mind now?

As if he read her mind, Mycroft answers, “Because I truly owe you as much.”

Victoria smiles. “Thank you.”

Mycroft releases her arm and Victoria hurries down the stairs to meet with the others in the cab, their untouched Chinese take-out still sitting on the kitchen table.


	7. Chapter 7

Victoria steps out of the cab and walks into the pub. John and Sherlock trail behind. Inside is very dim with light only coming from the lamps hanging from the low ceiling. The wall facing the street is lined with small, rectangular windows with red-cushioned booths lying under them and all along the far left wall. There’s a scattering of dark wooden tables along the floor and a bar stretched along the right wall. It’s a small pub, family owned, but gets a lot of business because it’s near University College London. A man stands behind the bar, wiping down the counter. He is wearing a black t-shit, which is tight against his bulking muscles. He has tattoos all across his arms and back of his neck. His bald head shines against the overhead lights. A frown is plastered on his face, his whole attitude coming across as mean and tough. However, when he raises his head and recognizes Victoria, the biggest and kindest smile spreads across his face.

He walks around the bar and welcomes her with open arms. “Heeeyy!!!” He embraces her in a big bear hug.

“Hi Ricky!” Victoria laughs as she returns the hug.

“How’s my favorite American?” Ricky asks and squeezes her tighter.

“Well… I can’t really breathe.”

“Oh, sorry.” Ricky releases her, keeping his hands on her shoulders. “And why do I have this pleasure?”

“I need a small favor.”

A minute or so later, Victoria walks back over to John and Sherlock, who are still standing by the entrance. “Ok, so this is what I need you to do. Sherlock, follow Ricky to the backroom and just wait there.” Sherlock nods and walks away. She turns to John. “I need you to come with me to the bar.”

John raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

Ignoring the comment, Victoria turns and walks to the bar, John reluctantly follows. Victoria slides off her jacket and tosses it on one of the empty chairs. She steps behind the bar and throws a rag on her shoulder. John sits at one of the bar stools, hands clasped and placed on the counter.

“So, what will it be then?”

“Sorry?”

“To drink.” Victoria puts her hands on her hips. “We’re at a bar. You’ll look the least suspicious with a drink in your hand.”

“Fine, then. I’ll have a pint.”

Victoria gets John his beer, and then goes serves the other customers who come up to the bar.

About twenty minutes pass when a young man, in his mid-twenties, walks in. His jean jacket is worn over a dark purple hooded jacket, unzipped to show a low V-neck gray t-shirt. His hands are in the pockets of his dark gray jeans. His white, worn down Converse high-tops squeak against the wooden floor as he makes his way to the bar, head down, not bothering to look up. He sits in one of the stools, tousles his short, dark brown hair and places his head in his hands, elbows on the counter. Before he even gets a chance to think, a drink is placed in front of him.

Gin and Tonic.

He knows who’s standing in front of him without looking up.

“I thought I’d give you your favorite.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question, Andrew.”

The young man looks up at Victoria, who is cleaning a glass with a wet cloth, trying to look as nonchalant as she can. He glares at her. “Do you realize how dangerous this is?”

“Yes, I do.” Victoria puts the glass down and starts wiping the bar counter, leaning closer to Andrew. She speaks quickly in a hushed tone, her eyes peering about the room. “That’s why I need you to walk out that door, go to your left, walk around the corner, and enter the kitchen through the back. Wait there.” She walks away from him to help a customer at the other end of the bar.

Andrew sits there, staring at his drink. He holds the glass by the rim and rotates it back and forth before finishing it. Victoria watches as he places cash next to the empty glass, gets up, and exits out the door. Victoria looks at John, who had been observing the whole occurrence. She tilts her head slightly. John nods, gets up, and follows the young man out of the pub.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Andrew opens the back door and enters the kitchen. He is met by a tall, lean man. His hands are in the pockets of his long coat and his dark curls rustle in the wind coming from the open door. John steps into the kitchen, closing the door behind him, and stands by the entrance.

Sherlock looks the young man over, eyebrow raised. “Male. Approximately 24 or 25 years old. You haven’t shaved in days, a sign of stress or sheer laziness. Your eyes are shot red with bags under them, indicating a lack of sleep. Your skin has slightly tanned, meaning you’ve spent some time where there’s sun, but not too much of it. America, maybe. Your shoes are worn and falling part. You’ve been doing a lot of running. And judging by the way you hold yourself, you must be highly trained in combat. Not in the military, no... Spy, perhaps? Assassin? No matter. Your jackets are loose enough to hide the British Army Browning L9A1 tucked into the back of your jeans. You are neither surprised nor intimidated by the fact that a complete stranger is able to pick out every little detail about you. However, you do seem very anxious, paranoid even, as if you know you are being watched.” He pauses and smirks. “You must be Andrew.”

Andrew gives the man a harsh look. “And you must be Sherlock.”

“Good. No need for introductions then.”

Victoria walks into the kitchen. John and Andrew’s eyes dart to her as she makes her way to the group. Sherlock, however, studies Andrew’s face, observing the sudden change of expression. He smirks.

“Ah, and by the way you look at Miss Victoria, I assume you to be a former–”

“That’s enough, Sherlock,” Victoria quickly interrupts. She turns to Andrew, her tone serious. “Why are you here? You know it’s not safe for you to be back. The whole point of leaving a country in the first place is for you to stay out of said country.”

“Do you really think I came here by choice?” Andrew snaps. “No matter how far I run or where I hide, he’s always going to find me.” His face burns with a mixture of anger and frustration as he glares into her eyes. “There’s no point, so why fight?” Victoria crosses her arms and Andrew raises his eyebrow. “And I can’t believe you’re stupid enough to come back as well.”

“I had nowhere else to go.”

“Bullshit.”

Victoria looks at him, anger in her eyes. She speaks in a cold, harsh tone. “Ava is dead.” Shock spreads across Andrews face. Victoria keeps eye contact, her angry gaze burrowing into his. “He killed her. And he gave me the pleasure of watching it all happen live on my computer screen. Lovely, right? So, tell me.” She pauses. “What else am I supposed to do?!” They stare at each other until Victoria looks away. “Besides, they already know I’m here.” She looks back up at Andrew, a pleading look now in her eyes. “Why else would I need to talk to you?”

Silence fills the room. Andrew and Victoria lock eyes, their expressions slowly changing to a sense of… longing. Their arms want nothing more than to reach out and embrace the other.

But they can’t.

And they know they can’t.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my friend Edye for providing *ahem* names (:

_It was late afternoon on a Friday. Two young men walked into the pub. They were students from the university nearby. Victoria recognized the shorter of the two. He was wearing a UCL sweatshirt, his backpack strap resting on his right shoulder. She had previously learned his name to be William Thomas Harrow, the son of Charles Lewis Harrow. Ava and Victoria were assigned to watch over this kid, hoping to find leads to his father. He tousled his curly, dirty-blonde hair as he looked around the pub with his light blue eyes. He wore his innocent smile, which she was warned to not trust._

 _William’s friend, however, she had never seen before. His grey beanie covered his ears, but failed to hide the straight, brown hair that was brushed to the side, out of his eyes. He, too, wore a UCL sweatshirt, but carried no backpack. He was only slightly taller than the other, but was much more lean and fit._

 _

The two students made their way to the bar, laughing and joking around with each other. They sit at the bar, William placing his backpack on the stool next to him. The friend looked up and made eye contact with Victoria. He smiled and gazed at her with his warm, brown eyes. She couldn’t help but smile back.

_

\------------------------------------------------------------------ 

“So, how do you two know each other again?” John asks, breaking the unbearably awkward silence.

“Old colleagues,” Victoria respond quickly, eyes still on Andrew’s.

Sherlock looks between the two and smirks, “There is a sort of Romeo and Juliet relationship between you two.”

“No,” Victoria snaps, and darting her gaze to Sherlock.

“Why would you say that?” John asks Sherlock, arms folded.

Sherlock’s eyes stay on Victoria’s. “You were working on a mission here not too long ago. I assume it be the one assigned by Mycroft.” She doesn’t respond, so Sherlock continues. “During that mission, you met someone unexpected, someone you weren’t supposed to meet, and you got,” Sherlock raises and eyebrow at Andrew. “Distracted.” The two remain silent, Victoria staring at Sherlock, Andrew at Victoria. Sherlock squints his eyes at Andrew, his mind at work, and then opens them in a sort of ‘a-ha!’ moment. “You are associated with The Eye of Re.” He studies Andrew for another moment. “You don’t want to be, which would be why you ran. However, someone just couldn’t let you go. Someone close to you. Family, perhaps?”

“My brother,” Andrew responds, looking at Sherlock.

“Are you done?” Victoria asks, glaring at him with hard eyes. Sherlock glares back, determined to argue with her if needed, but he notices the anger and hostility in her eyes. He grabs his hands behind his back, a sign of surrender.

Victoria turns to Andrew. “I need your help.”

“What with?”

Victoria’s eyes harden and she speaks in a low, serious tone. “I’m going to hunt him down.”

“What?!” Andrew’s eyes widen. “Are you serious?”

“He killed the people I love, Andrew. And to be honest, I'm really fucking pissed at this point.”

“But actions driven by vengeance never end well.”

“Well, it’s either him or me, and I'm done running.” Victoria glares at Andrew, her eyes foreign to him. They are the eyes of a killer. One who is determined and plans to show no mercy.

“I don’t know where he is,” Andrew says, hesitantly.

She raises her eyebrow.

“No, I really don’t.”

“Fine.” Victoria slaps her outer thighs. “Then I guess I’ll just have to find him myself.” She turns on her heels and heads out of the kitchen

“Tory!” Andrew calls out to her, but she ignores him. “Tory!!” He yells louder, but she’s already gone. Sherlock gives John a pointed look. John just nods and follows after her.

The two watch as the kitchen door closes.

“You care deeply for her.”

Andrew doesn’t respond, his eyes still on the door.

“Why did you lie to her?”

“How do you mean?” Andrew turns to Sherlock, a bit surprised by the question.

“You came back by choice. And you’ve risked your life by doing so.”

Andrew looks away, “I know.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------- 

Victoria storms out and goes straight to the booth at the far corner of the pub. The same man she saw earlier was sitting there, his back to the rest of the room. Victoria sneaks in from behind and slides into the booth seat across from him.

“Hello Philip. Oh, don’t look so surprised, I know you’re following me.” Philip looks around the room, his hazel eyes wide and surprised, and doesn’t say a word. John makes his way towards the booth. Victoria looks at him and signals with her eyes to the booth right next to them. He quietly slips into the seat.

Victoria places her elbows on the table, clasps her fingers, and rests her chin on her hands. She wears a sarcastic smile as she says, “So, what will it be this time? Are you here to record every move I make? Or are you here to kill me? If it’s the latter, I wish you the best of luck, because I don't plan on going down easily.” Philip stays silent. Victoria sighs, frustrated with the lack of response she’s getting. “How’s Chris doing nowadays?”

“I won’t tell you anything.”

“Ah! There’s the Scottish accent!” Victoria exclaims with every hint of sarcasm. “I’ll tell you now; you’d be making this a lot easier on yourself if you just cooperate. So saying that,” Victoria places her palms on the table, smile still on her face. “Where is Chris?”

No response.

Victoria strums her fingers on the table and studies Philip, trying to read past his poker face. She smirks, “Ah, so it's that whole 'say anything and you die' policy. It’s a bit harsh, if you ask me. Is that what you’re so afraid of?” No response. “Uh huh… Well, Philip,” Victoria leans in. “What makes you think I wouldn’t just kill you right here, right now?”

Philip raises his eye brow and places him palms on the table. “You don’t have it in you.”

Victoria chuckles. Then, in a split second, she grabs the knife from the dining set next to her and stabs the table, barely missing the nook between Philip’s middle and ring finger. The smirk on her face is gone. “Try me.” Philip looks at the knife, wide eyed. Victoria continues, “Where is he?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Philip, where is he?”

“I told you, I’m not–”

Victoria reaches across the table, grabbing Philip’s shirt, and pulls him closer. She speaks in a low, threatening voice. “Now, between you and me, I’m not objective to torture. In fact, I find it quite amusing. I do what I can to get what I want. Do you remember Ava, don’t you Philip?” His eyes grow wide. “Ah, so you do. Well, I learned a lot from her. She taught me everything she knows.” With her free hand, she grabs the knife and examines it at eye-level. “So keep in mind that whatever you think Chris may do to you is nowhere near what I will do to you if you don’t cooperate.” She looks at him. “Understood?” She let go of his shirt and push him back into his seat. “Now, tell me. Where. Is. Chris?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I mean I have absolutely no fucking idea where he is. He’s always moving about, never stays in one place for too long. I haven’t seen him in months.”

“Then of what use are you to me?” Victoria sighs frustratedly. “Leave.”

“What?”

Victoria slightly lifts the knife. “Leave now before I change my mind.”

Philip gets up and starts walking to the pub entrance. “It was nice seeing you again, Philip!” Victoria calls out to him as he walks out the door.

John jets up and takes the now empty seat in front of her. “What was that about?”

“Old friend of Ava’s. Works for Chris.” Victoria responds, staring out the window. John follows her gaze and finds Philip as he walks down the sidewalk and past their window. Then all of a sudden, gunfire echoed in the streets and Philip is thrown against the window, blood scattered all over the glass.

Victoria jolts back, eyes wide.

They know she’s here.

Frantic customers run around the pub, but Victoria’s eyes stay on the lifeless body slowly sliding down to the ground. Then, someone grabs her arm, and pulls her up from the booth.

“We have to leave. NOW!”

She looks up and finds Sherlock pulling her through the chaos filling the room, with John shortly behind. They make their way to the kitchen, where they meet up with Andrew. They all exit through the back, running down the alley way in the opposite direction of the chaos.


	9. Chapter 9

_“You can’t see him anymore.”_

_“What! Why not?”_

_“Because it’s too dangerous.”_

_Victoria crossed her arms. “You don’t know him.”_

_“Yeah? Well, I know you.” Ava put her hands on her hips. “And we can’t afford any distractions.”_

_“He’s not a distraction.”_

_“The hell he is!” Ava raised her voice in frustration. “We are here for a job. A job assigned by the British government, mind you. And here you are, fucking the target’s best friend.”_

_“I am not-”_

_“For all we know, this boy can be working for Charles Harrow.”_

_“Ava, he’s not-“_

_“Goddamn it, Tory!” Ava yelled, throwing her arms in the air. “Just grow up! Stop chasing every goddamned boy that gives you attention. I’m sick and tired of you fucking up all the time and I will NOT let that happen again.” She took a step closer, their faces inches apart. “You either do your fucking job or face the consequences. Understood?” Victoria just stares at Ava and slightly nods. “Good.” She left the room without another glance at Victoria._

_\-------------------------------------------------------------------  
_

The four quickly make their way back to Baker Street on foot, barging into 221b. Mrs. Hudson walks out and meets the bunch, Sherlock leaning against the stair railing and the others against the wall, all of them gasping for air.

“Is everything alright, Sherlock?”

“Everything is fine,” Sherlock breathes out as he makes his way up the stairs. John smiles and nods at Mrs. Hudson before he follows.

The cheerful landlady looks over Andrew. “And who is this fine young man?”

“A friend,” Victoria smiles at Mrs. Hudson and grabs Andrew’s hand. “C’mon.” She pulls him up the stairs. Andrew looks back and kindly smiles at Mrs. Hudson.

Mrs. Hudson calls after them, “Now, don’t tell me you need separate rooms for these two as well!” Hearing no response, she sighs and walks back to her flat.

Victoria and Andrew walk into the flat to find John sitting in his chair and Sherlock pacing about anxiously. “So they know you are here. It was a warning of some sort,” Sherlock continues to mumble to himself, ignoring the others in the room.

 “So this… Chris. He’s your brother, Andrew?” John asks.

“Yes.”

Victoria crosses her arms and turns to Andrew. “And how could you have absolutely no idea where he is?”

“Shh.” Sherlock shushes them, his pace stopped.

Andrew raises his eyebrow. “What are you-”

“Shh!” Sherlock puts a hand up in Andrew’s direction, standing perfectly still.

After a few seconds, John stands up. “Sherlock, what’s wrong?”

He doesn’t answer for a few moments. Then he begins to look about the room. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Sherlock turns to John. “Clicking.” At that moment, Sherlock’s phone chirps. He groans and whips his cell out of his coat pocket. He reads the text and groans again, putting his phone back into his pocket. “Another murder. C’mon.” He walks out the door without a glance at the lot. John sighs and follows.

Andrew stands there, puzzled. Victoria grabs his hand and pulls him towards the door. “C’mon.”

 

“Abandoned building, carved symbols, acid burns, and a message written on the wall with blood.” Anderson looks up from the body just as Victoria walks into the room, Andrew following behind her. “Glad to see you’re still with us.”

Victoria smiles sarcastically, “A pleasure to see you as well, Anderson.” He rolls his eyes and stands up to allow the detective and his blogger a look at the corpse.

John examines it for a couple minutes. “Dead for at least two days. He seems like he’s in his twenties, but it’s hard to determine anything with these acid burns on his face.” He gets up as Sherlock begins his turn at the body.

Victoria joins them and examines the face. Her eyes widen and her body stiffens. Sherlock notices the change in her body language. “Tory, what is it?”

“I… I think I… Andrew, come here.” She motions in the general direction that Andrew is standing.

“What?”

“Look.” Andrew joins Victoria’s side, his eyes also widen as he recognizes the face. “It’s William Harrow.”

“Who?” John looks up at them.

“An old… colleague,” Andrew responds. He kneels down to take a closer look. “Why would he possibly be in a place like this?”

Victoria backs away as the three boys discuss the possibilities. She walks over and examines the message on the wall.

_Finders keepers_

She glances about the room, looking for clues of any sort. Her eyes find a faint light coming from the far corner of the room. She follows the light and comes across a door slightly creeped open. She opens the door slowly and her heart stops.

“Sherlock!”

Sherlock gets up and heads over to where he heard Victoria call. He finds her standing in a small room with the walls completely covered in photos. Examining further, he realizes that they’re all photos of Victoria.

“What the actual fuck?!”

“Someone’s been watching you.” Sherlock places his hands in his coat pockets and walks into the room.

“No fucking shit, Sherlock!” Victoria yells angrily, her eyes darting about the room.

“It looks as if they’ve been watching you for quite a while,” Sherlock says as he examines a photo of a younger Victoria. “But why…” Sherlock’s voice trails off as he slowly turns and walks out of the room distractedly.

Andrew enters the small room. “What’s going- woah…” He stops and looks around in shock. Victoria ignores him and walks towards the back of the room, where a small desk stood with stacks of pictures set on top. She picks up a pile and begins looks through them, flipping through photos of her with her family and friends. She gets to the last few and freezes. She looks at them in disbelief. “David?”

“Do you hear that?” Sherlock calls from the other room. Andrew walks out and joins John and Lestrade, who are standing there and watching the consulting detective as he goes about the room scanning the walls, his coat flipping behind him.

“What?” Andrew asks.

Sherlock turns to the group and puts a finger up, “Shh.”

Andrew rolls his eyes and the room falls silent. A faint clicking sound is barely audible.

“What is that?” John asks.

Sherlock spots something on the far corner of the room. He grabs a chair and walks in that direction.

“What? What did you find?” Lestrade asks anxiously.

Sherlock climbs onto the chair and grabs something small from the top corner. He steps down and walks towards the others. Victoria joins the group, hands in her jacket pockets.

“It looks like we’re being watched.” Sherlock says as he examines the small, black item in his fingers.

“What is that?” Victoria asks, crossing her arms.

He holds it up between his thumb and forefinger so the others can see. “A camera.”

“I, uh, found some photos in there that, I assume, were taken recently.” Andrew says to Sherlock. “Someone put a camera in your flat as well.”

Victoria turns and walks towards the exit.

“Where are you going?” Andrew calls after her.

“I need to think. I’ll meet you back at Baker Street.”

“Wait.”

Victoria stops and turns to Sherlock.

“Take John’s cell.”

“What?” John turns to Sherlock. “Why my cell?”

“She can’t take mine. I use it.”

John scoffs, “You barely use it.”

“Nevermind that.” Sherlock places his hand out in front of John.

John sighs and reaches into his pocket. He takes out his cell and places it in the open hand. Sherlock tosses the phone to Victoria. “If anything comes up, you call.”

Victoria nods and walks out of the room.

 ------------------------------------------------------------------

_Andrew and Victoria stood silently in an empty room, a great distance between them. Andrew’s gaze searching for Victoria’s. Victoria’s eyes fixed on the tattoo on Andrew’s arm. The Eye of Re._

_“Tory…”_

_“You’re one of them.” She looks into Andrew’s eyes, anger and pain filling hers. “Did you know?”_

_“Know what?”_

_“About me? Is that why we’re here? Did they set something up?” Victoria ran her fingers through her hair. “Oh my god… how could I be so stupid.”_

_Andrew took a step towards her, “Tory…”_

_“No!” Victoria took a step back, taking a defensive stance. “Don’t come near me. I will kill you.”_

_“Tory-”_

_“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go with my instincts and fucking kill you right now.”_

_“I’m not here to hurt you.”_

_“Bullshit.”_

_“I’m here to help-”_

_“Andrew, don’t disrespect me like this and lie so blatantly to my face.” Victoria’s eyes began to water. “Tell me the truth. I deserve that much.”_

_Andrew said nothing but returned her glassy-eyed gaze._

_“Tell. Me.”_

_Andrew took a deep breath. “No.”_

_“I’m sorry?”_

_“No, this wasn’t set up. It was a complete coincidence that we should meet in the first place. But when Chris found out, he couldn’t resist the opportunity.”_

_“Chris?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Your_ brother _Chris?”_

_Andrew hesitated for a moment before answering. “Yes.”_

_Victoria threw her hands in the air in frustration. “Oh, wow, that’s just great now isn’t it?”_

_“No, Tory it’s not-”_

_In less than a second, Victoria took out a hand gun, cocked it, and pointed it at Andrew, holding it with both hands. “I’ve spent almost half my life running. I’ve had to look after myself and do whatever to keep myself safe. I had to survive, no matter the cost.” She stared at Andrew coldly, a tear running down her cheek. “And I should kill you to continue survivng.”_

_Andrew lunged forward and grabbed Victoria’s wrists. Victoria pulled the trigger, but Andrew had forced her arms to the side and she ended up shooting the wall. He knocked the gun out of her hands and kicked it across the room. Victoria twisted her arms around to grab a hold of Andrews’s and kneed him in the groin. He stumbled backwards and Victoria saw the opportunity to kick him on the chest. Andrew saw it too, however, and grabbed her foot inches before it reached its target. She kicked Andrew in the face with her free foot. He let go of her and fell a few feet back. Victoria landed straight on her back, cursing to herself._

_“Tory, we don’t have to do this.” Andrew said, as he stood up and wiped the blood from his nose._

_Victoria managed to get back on her feet, her back in deep pain. Tears were now rolling down her face. “I trusted you.”_

_“I know.”_

_“And you… fucking… LIED to me.”_

_“I know.”_

_Victoria stared at Andrew in silence, rage welling up inside. She sprung forward and raised her arm with full intention of slapping him. Andrew grabbed her wrist and held it tightly. “Tory, listen to me. I showed you my tattoo because I’m here to help you. Chris is my brother, yes, but what he does is sick and cruel and I want no part of it.” Andrew put his free hand on Victoria’s cheek. “I won’t hurt you, and I was never planning to hurt you. I could never…” Victoria pulled her wrist of out Andrew’s grasp and pushed Andrew’s had off her face. She took a few steps back, keeping their gaze. Andrew reached into his coat and pulled out a file. He dropped it onto the floor by Victoria’s feet. She looked down at it, confused._

_“This is everything you need to know about me.” Andrew placed his hands in his coat pockets. “My life, my relationship with Chris, and what he ordered me to do. Every detail.” Victoria continued to stare at the file at her feet._

_“Why are you giving this to me?”_

_“I told you, I won’t hurt you.”Andrew took a deep breath and Victoria met his gaze. “But I’ll help anyway I can.”_

_“If Chris finds out-”_

_“Yes, I know. Which is why I’ve already arranged myself a false identity and I’m leaving London tonight.” Andrew smiled faintly. “Consider it a parting gift.” Victoria watched as Andrew turned and walked out of the room. She knew she would never see him again._

_\------------------------------------------------------------_

Victoria runs her thumb over the picture of her and Andrew that she took from the small room. The street lights shine through the cab windows and show light onto the photo in her hand. It was of that last day she saw Andrew, taken through what seemed like window of the building next door.

Something is wrong here. She’d always thought it was pure luck that she was the only one to survive that night, that Sherlock had found her before anything worse could happen. But there has to be more than that. Why would they go through all that trouble just for _her?_ Why still go through all that trouble?

She folds up the picture and stuffs it back into her pocket. She takes out another photo and unfolds it. It’s of David walking done some street talking on the phone.

_How is David involved in all this?_

Victoria takes a deep breath, folds the picture, and puts it back into her pocket. She stares out the window, still deep in thought. She slowly becomes aware of her surroundings and realized that they are heading in the opposite direction of Baker Street. The cab stops at a traffic light and Victoria leans over towards the driver, politely saying “Um, excuse me, but I don’t think this is the right way.”

“Actually, miss,” The cab driver turns and points a gun at her face. “I think we’re going exactly where you’re needed to go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've come to realize that as I write this... it becomes more of a story about a girl named Victoria rather than a story about Sherlock and John and another one of their cases. But Victoria's complex story is just writing itself, and I have to write it down. But the Sherlock inspiration is not entirely lost. As the story goes along, I promise that it'll all tie together in the end. Trust me.


	10. Chapter 10

"Do you really think it's wise to let her off on her own like that?" John asks Sherlock, moments after Victoria leaves the room.

"She's a trained assassin, John. She can handle herself." Sherlock responds, his eyes still on the exit and his eyebrows furrow. John looks up at Sherlock, eyebrows raised.

Andrew turns to Sherlock. "You called her Tory."

"I did."

"So, you know her."

"Yes."

"I mean, you  _know_ her."

Sherlock turns to Andrew and raises his eyebrow. "And what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing." Andrew puts his hands in his pockets. "You know what, I'm gonna go. I have things to take care of." He turns and walks away.

John calls after him. "Wait, I don't think that's a good-"

"Let him go, John." Sherlock cuts him off. John sighs and they watch Andrew leave the room. Sherlock lifts up the small camera in his fingers and continues to examine it.

Lestrade crosses his arms. "What I don't understand is... Why Victoria? What is it that they want?"

"What could these terrorists possibly want with her?" John adds.

"I don't know." Sherlock responds. He frowns. "We should probably get back to the flat. See if we can track this back to the source." He puts the camera in his coat pocket and begins to walk towards the exit, John following closely behind him.

Lestrade calls after them, "Wait, Sherlock-"

"We'll keep in touch." Sherlock calls as he leaves the room.

Sherlock and John walk out the abandoned building and towards the main road. John hails a cab as Sherlock's phone chirps. It's from John's cell.

_SOS_

\---------------------------

Victoria slips the phone back into her pocket. She crosses her legs and places her hands on her lap. "Care to tell me where you're taking me?"

"Shut up."

"Well, I mean, I am paying you. Only fair that the customer knows where she's going."

"I said, shut up."

Victoria smirks and remains quiet the rest of the ride. After what seemed like an hour going through empty, narrow streets, they turn into a long driveway. The driver parks in front of an old, dilapidated two-story home and turns off the vehicle. He steps out of the car and opens her door, pointing the gun at her.

"Get out."

"You know," Victoria turns to the man and raises her eyebrow. "You made a slight error in your ways. When you kidnap a trained killer..." She steps out of the car and smirks. "You should really tie her up first." She kicks the gun out of his hands and it goes flying. She kicks the man in the chest and he stumbles backward. He reaches into his back pocket and takes out a knife.

Victoria rolls her eyes. "Really?" The man lunges forward and slashes his knife, but Victoria is quick. She steps to the left, the knife barely missing her, and she steps forward, kneeing him in the stomach. He doubles over, giving her the perfect opportunity to elbow him in the face and send him reeling back. Spinning, Victoria roundhouse kicks him across the face and he hits the ground, unconscious.

Victoria takes a deep breath. “Well, now that that’s over.” She walks over to where the gun had landed and picks it up. She dusts it off and examines it. Fully loaded. Could come in handy. She tucks it into the back of her jeans and whips out John’s phone, searching through the contacts.

_“Where are you?”_

“I don’t know,” Victoria responds, noting Sherlocks distressed voice. “The cab driver took me to some abandoned house.” She looks over at the unconscious body and smiles, quite pleased with her work.

_“Do you know what this house is near?”_

“Oh yes, of course, I come here all the time.” Victoria snaps back, a bit frustrated. “I don’t even know if I’m still in London. I’m literally in the middle of nowhere.” She looks around. The lights along the driveway were dim and not nearly bright enough to light the rest of the yard. A breeze shook the trees, giving the place an eerie feel. Something is definitely wrong. “It’s quiet, though. Too quiet.”

_“Try to find your way back to the main road.”_

“No, Sherlock, I think I’m gonna stay here.” She starts walking down the long, dark driveway. The wind picks up and the trees and bushes lining the driveway rustle. She picks up her pace, looking for any movement among the shadows. With the phone still at her ear, she can faintly hear John and Lestrade, but can’t make out what they’re saying. “Where are you anyway?”

_“Scotland Yard, trying to track John’s pho-”_

The call ends and Victoria looks at the phone screen. No signal.

“Dammit,” Victoria mumbles to herself. She continues walking down the driveway, faintly seeing some sort of gate. This driveway must be a mile long. The phone buzzes in her hand. It’s Sherlock.

_“It would be really helpful if you’d stay on the line.”_

“Oh, well I have crappy service. Sorry to be such an inconvenience to you.”

She could hear Sherlock scoff.  _“Just stay on the line.”_

“Yes, sir.” Victoria replies sarcastically. She continues walking and listens for the next couple minutes as Sherlock discusses something with John and Lestrade about the phone. She hears a rustle in the bushes and looks behind her. Nothing. She picks up her pace. She hears Lestrade clap and exclaim  _“Got it!”_

“Oh, good. Where the fuck am I?” No response. “Sherlock?” She stops and checks the screen. No signal. “Goddammit, you’ve got to be kidding me.” She sighs and puts the phone in her pocket. There’s some rustling in the bushes behind her, but she doesn’t turn around to look. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but there’s no breeze. She takes a deep breath and licks her lips. “Fancy meeting you here,” she says in a sarcastic tone.

A deep chuckle comes from behind her. She turns around. A man in dark jeans and a black leather jacket stands feet away from her, his arms crossed. His light brown hair is slicked back and his smirk shows through his goatee.

Victoria tilts her head to the side and smirks. “Long time, no see, Chris. It looks as if you’ve aged a bit.”

“Oh, Victoria, flattery will get you no where.” The man says with equal sarcasm, his raspy baritone voice sending chills down Victoria’s spine. His thick Scottish accent very prominent.

Victoria takes a deep breath and wipes the smile off her face. “So, tell me,” she raises an eyebrow. “What’s stopping me from killing you right this instant.”

“Oh, well many things, really.” He motions behind her. “First being my men here who will stop you.”

Victoria turns as four men walk towards her. She sighs heavily and whips out the gun, shooting all four of them in an instant. They fall to the floor, badly wounded.

Victoria turns to Chris and smiles. “What men?" She points the gun at him. “Anything else stopping me?”

Chris grins and Victoria tightens her grip on the gun. She suddenly feels the round point of something press gently against the back of her head and she closes her eyes, sighing dejectedly.

A familiar voice speaks in a low tone, murmuring in Victoria's ear, "Put the gun down, Tory. And don’t try to fight. I will shoot."

Victoria puts her arm by her side as the gun is snatched from her hand. Chris throws his arms open. "Ah, brother, so glad you could make it! Now, do me a favor, Andrew, and show our guest inside." Chris turns and starts walking up the driveway. "And if she fights, don't be afraid to manhandle her. I've heard she likes it rough." Chris chuckles. Andrew pushes Victoria forward and they follow without another word.

\--------------------------------

"I told you, I don't know anything." Victoria is barely able to say or even see anything with half her face bruised and swollen. She can feel the blood trickling down her palms from the rope tightly tying her wrists behind her back. Her stomach pains from the multiple strong punches she endured and the previous hits to her chest make it hard for her to breathe. The wooden chair they’ve sat her in isn’t quite comfortable either. A man grabs her by the ponytail and pulls her head back, forcing her to look at Chris, who stands there with his hands behind his back.

"That's exactly what Ava told us. Of course, it's more likely that she actually didn't know anything, but the past is the past."

"Then why don't you just kill me and and get it over with." She coughs, spitting out some blood. "There's really no point dragging this out."

Chris smirks and takes out his pocket knife, leaning in and gently running it down Victoria's throat. "Oh, as much as I'd love to, the boss wouldn’t be too keen on that.” He puts the knife back in his pocket and aggressively grabs Victoria’s chin. Victoria winces from the pressure on her bruised face. “Although, he may be a bit upset that I touched this pretty face of yours. But no matter.” He releases his grip and takes a few steps back. The man holding her hair let’s go and pushes her head forward. She takes a deep breath and sneaks a look at Andrew, who is standing in the corner of the small room, not bringing himself to watch the scene playing out in front of him.

Chris follows her eyes and smiles. “Ah yes, Andrew. He’s been in on it from the beginning. And you just made it too easy, Victoria. I’ve always believed that sentiment leads to one’s downfall, and you just proved that.” He crosses his arms. “You know, if you would just cooperate, it would make this a whole lot easier.”

“I have nothing to tell you.” Victoria responds, looking down at her knees.

Chris sighs and begins pacing. “We’ve put together a few plans in the past. First, it was that whole weapons fiasco that you’re so familiar with. Then some drug smuggling and some attempted assassinations. But dear Mycroft always has a way of stopping us. Most recently, we had planned to plant a bomb under the English Channel, you know, to shake things up. But alas!” Chris throws his arms up in frustration. “Mycroft soiled that too!” Chris gets down on one knee in front of Victoria and gently lifts her chin with his forefinger. “So tell me, how is he getting all this information?” Victoria just stares at him without saying a word. Chris sighs and stands up. “Fine, say nothing then.” He takes a couple steps back. “You’re a strong one, Victoria. You’ve done an exceptional job keeping yourself together. Ava would be quite proud.” He put his hands in his pockets and motions for two of his men by the door to leave the room. They nod and leave. Chris looks down at Victoria and grins. “But I’m determined to break you.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: EXPLICIT VIOLENCE (just in case physical violence is a trigger for anyone)

"Andrew, " Chris motions for his brother to come over. "Could you do me a favor and tighten the ropes on Victoria? I think they're a bit loose." Andrew nods and walks over behind Victoria without a word. He tightens the rope around her chest, the wooden back of the chair gnawing into her back. Victoria screams in pain from the ropes tightening around her bruised chest. "Ah," Chris smiles. "That's better."

Victoria takes a few deep breathes. "Do your worst, Chris. I honestly have nothing to say to you. But just know that I will kill you."

"Coming from someone who is on the losing side of the situation."

"Also coming from someone who has nothing to lose."

Chris raises his eyebrows. "Oh, really?" The third of Chris's men grabs another wooden chair and places it a few feet in front of Victoria. Chris turns to the door and calls, "Bring him in."

The door swings open and the two men that left earlier drag in a younger man. His white button down shirt is disheveled and covered in dirt and hints of blood. His head is hanging, his blonde hair ruffled and covered in dirt and grease. His trousers are ripped and spotted with blood and his bare and bruised feet drag as Chris's men carry him to the empty chair. They sit him down and the third man walks over with rope and ties him to the chair in similar fashion to Victoria. The young man takes a deep breath and glances up at Victoria. Her eyes grow wide as she recognizes the gray-ish blue eyes locked on hers. He attempts to smile, but the bruises on his cheeks allow him otherwise.

"You know David, don't you?" Chris smirks.

David and Victoria had been family friends even before they were born. Their mothers went to high school and college together and had been best friends ever since. It was David's family who took her in after she was orphaned. They were family to her, and she had done all she could to protect them, including fake her own death to keep them in the dark.

Victoria darts a nasty look at Chris, her face heating up from the sudden anger boiling inside her. "Don't you _dare_ lay another hand on him."

"Or you'll what? _Kill me?_ Yes, dear, you've already made that abundantly clear. There's no need to repeat yourself." Chris's phone rings and he rolls his eyes. He whips out his cell and checks the ID. He puts the phone to his ear. "Yes, boss?.... Yes, yes she's here." Chris looks down at Victoria, whose attention has shifted to David, her eyes full of concern. "Yes- wait no that's not... that's not what i-" The voice on the other end begins to yell and Chris moves the phone away from his ear. He looks at his guards and they all nod. Chris puts the phone back to his ear and begins to walk out of the room. All three of his men and Andrew, follow. Chris's voice fades as the door shuts behind them. "Boss, I'm sorry I... No, I'm not lying to you... I don't doubt you, sir..."

The two Americans sat there in silence, Victoria's eyes scanning David's body for any major injuries, David still attempting to smile at Victoria.

Victoria sighs deeply. "What are you doing here, David?"

"I was looking for you."

"I'm supposed to be dead."

"Well, apparently you're not," David chuckles, but stops after feeling how much pain it causes him.

Victoria doesn't find this funny.

Noticing Victoria's expression, David decides to continue explaining. "It was really hard, you know. After you... died." He pauses before bringing himself to say that last word. "I... it took me a while to get back into things. I had to, though, because it seemed as though everyone else had moved on. So when high school came around, I sucked it up and... went on with my life." He takes a deep breath. "It was Senior Year when it all started."

"What started?"

"Envelopes in the mail... with photos. Of you. You in Paris, Berlin, Moscow... sometimes with this other lady, sometimes with this odd man carrying an umbrella. I tried to bring up to my friends and family that you could still be alive, but no one believed me. They all thought I was still in shock or going crazy or something. So after graduation, I took all the money in my college savings account and left. I told everyone that I was traveling, which wasn't a complete lie."

"So… you've been searching for me for three years."

"Yup. I was kinda hoping that the next time we'd meet it would be at a café or something. I mean," David raises his eyebrow. "I had a feeling you’d be in some deep shit, but nothing like this."

Victoria manages a smile. "Sorry you were brought into this." They both look at each other in silence for a few moments. Victoria takes a deep breath and the smile wipes off her face. "David, I'm gonna get you out of here, ok? I promise." David raises his eyebrow and Victoria smirks. "Just trust me."

The door swings open and Chris and his men storm in. One man goes to David, Andrew to Victoria,  and they begin to untie the ropes binding them to the chairs.

"Change of plans," Chris exclaims. "Seems as though the boss wants you two brought to him immediately." He looks at his men. "Take care of them." They all nod in agreement. He walks out of the room, dialing a number and putting his cell to his ear.

Victoria doesn't even as much glance at Andrew as he removed the ropes and forces her to stand up. He pushes her forward and she follows as the other man grabs David and walks him out into the narrow hallway, the other two of Chris's men leading in front. Andrew holds onto Victoria's left arm. He light tugs on it and leans in and whispers in her ear.

"When I say now... kick ass."

Andrew straighten up and they continue walking, Victoria trying to hide her smirk. Andrew takes out his pocket knife and cuts Victoria's wrists free. He hands the knife over to her and winks.

“Now.”

Before Andrew can whip his gun out, Victoria leaps at the man holding David. She savagely slashes at the guard's face like a lioness taking down its prey. Andrew absentmindedly fires off a shot at the nearest guy as he watches Victoria plunge the knife between the man's ribs. David cowers by the wall, helpless to do anything and staying out of the way.

Victoria stands up and looks at the third guy, calculating before lunging and tackling him to the ground. The boys watch as she wraps her legs around his throat, hearing the audible crack as the man's clavicle breaks under the pressure.

Victoria pushes her hair back and puts her hands on her hips, looking around at the bodies strewn about the floor.

"Well," Andrew says. "Badass indeed."

 _SLAP!_ Victoria's hand comes down sharply across Andrew's face. He yelps and clutches at his cheek.

"I don't know why you thought this was a good idea," Victoria says, her voice raising as she stalks towards him. "But that could have easily killed all of us. It was only by some STROKE OF LUCK that we all survived."

Andrew cowers back, awaiting the second slap, but is shocked when he feels her hand cradle his cheek instead.

"You lying motherfucker," Victoria says before kissing him.

She pulls back and slaps him across cheek again--hard. “By the way, go to hell.” she says and redirects her attention to David. David stares at her in full-fledged terror.

David shrinks back as Victoria approaches him. “W...w…”

"Shh, David," Victoria says, holding her hands up in front of her. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"Why should I trust that?" David says, terror lacing through his tone.

"David," Victoria appeals softly. "I'm still the same girl that you grew up with. The girl you adopted as your sister. I've just learned how to deal with the bad things in life. And you are NOT a bad thing. I'm not going to hurt you." She kneels down in front of him. She cuts the ropes off his wrists and puts the pocket knife in her back jeans pocket. She helps David up and they embrace in a passionate hug, tears rolling down David’s cheeks.

“I missed you so much, Tory.”

“I know,” Victoria squeezes David tighter. “And I’m so sorry."

“Uh, guys,” Andrew said awkwardly. “I hate to interrupt your reunion here, but we really should keep moving before Chris realizes we’re not where we’re supposed to be.”

“Right, sorry.” Victoria says. She steps back, her hands on David’s shoulders. “You ok?”

“Yeah,” David sniffles. “I’m fine.”

“God, you’re shaking. Here,” Victoria takes off her beat up tan leather jacket and places it on David’s shoulders. She smoothes out her sweater, parts of the knit torn and the color no longer the white it used to be, but more of a blotchy, rusty brown.  She turns to Andrew, retying her hair up in the ponytail. “So, where to?”

“This way,” Andrew points in the opposite direction they were initially going. “We can get to exit this way if we can get passed Chris’s other men.”

“Easy,” Victoria says with a confident smile. She walks over to one of the lifeless bodies on the ground and grabs a gun out of a jacket pocket. “Here,” she throws in at David, you catches it as if it were something burning hot. “You may need this.” David looks at the gun as if it were some foreign object. Victoria searches another body and grabs a gun for herself. She gets up and she and David follow Andrew as they run down the hall.

\----------------------------------------------

Andrew throws open the door and ushers Victoria and David outside onto the front yard. Victoria stops when she sees the five men waiting for them.

"I thought you said there would only be a couple," Victoria says to Andrew.

"No, I just said there were men outside," Andrew counters. "I never specified a number."

"No matter." Victoria cracks her neck. "Still a piece of cake. You take the right and I'll take the left?" Tory said under her breath to Andrew.

Andrew nods. "Two each and then team up for the fifth," Andrew agrees.

Victoria starts walking towards the group of men. "Five against two?" Tory says. "Seems kinda unfair...to you guys." Tory grabs the first guy and ruins any chance of him ever having children.  The guard crouches in pain and Andrew laughs before getting the wind knocked out of him by the second guy's tackle.

Victoria takes out her gun and shoots at her man, winging him, but he swats the gun from her hand with his other arm. She pulls out the knife from her back pocket, smirking and winking before stabbing him in the neck. She swings at the next guy, who is charging towards her, but the knife slips out of her hand from the blood. He grabs her arm and punches her across the face, forcing her to fall to the ground. She stands up, wiping the blood from her nose, and she runs over to wear her knife had landed. She picks it up and wipes it deftly on her pant leg. No longer slippery, the knife is firm in her hand as she lunges at the second guy, burying it in his side. As a last ditch effort to kill her, he wraps both hands around her throat, squeezing harder as the life slowly slips from his body.

Victoria chokes out "David...shoot..."

David looks at the gun in his hands, not knowing what to do. He's seen television shows, he knows HOW to shoot it. He just doesn't know how to kill a guy. But Tory...she's for sure alive...it was really just a blind hope all these years that those pictures weren't just some look alike...

David holds the gun, his hands trembling. He points it at the man and closes his eyes, pulling the trigger.

The man falls to the ground in a pool of blood and Victoria stumbles back, gasping for air. She looks over at Andrew, who is trapped under the lifeless body of one of the men, with another lying next to him. Victoria runs over to help him out, only to find out that he had been shot in the leg. She kneels down and to examine the wound.

“I’ll be fine.” Andrew mutters.

Victoria rolls her eyes and looks up to check on David and sees a man loom behind him. Victoria points and yells at David to turn around, but it’s too late. The man grabs David’s arm and knocks the gun out of his hand. David tries to defend himself, but the guard is too strong and manages to get David into a headlock, David struggling and gasping for air. Victoria quickly snatches Andrew's gun from his hand and shoots the man in the shoulder. The man releases his grip on David and stumbles back in pain, David gasping for air. Seeing the opportunity, David elbows him in the face, knocking him unconscious. He runs over to Victoria and helps her get Andrew to his feet.

David looks at Victoria, his eyes somber. “You look different.”

“Sorry?” Victoria looks at David confused.

“You just look so different. The way you hold yourself. And your eyes.”

Victoria continues to look at David with a puzzled look.

“So much for teaming up on that last guy.” Andrew chuckles, but then yelps in pain as he puts pressure on his wounded leg.

“Ah, sorry man!” David says. He looks at the wound and his eyes widen in shock. “That doesn’t look so good,”

“Nah, I’ll be fine,” Andrew winces from the pain and then smiles at David. “I’ve had much worse.” Andrew manages a chuckle and the other two just smile.

_BANG!_

Andrew is thrown to the ground, blood seeping through his shirt.

“NO!” Victoria throws herself to the ground, ripping open his shirt. His chest bleeds profusely, and his whole body is still. “No, God no. Andrew, please, no!” Two men grab her and drag her away from the body, but she kicks and screams, “NO! GET OFF ME! GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF ME!” She looks up to find Chris standing at the entrance to the house, gun in hand. Victoria’s eyes grew wide. “You… you shot your own brother!”

“He was a useless piece of flesh anyway,” Chris brushes off Victoria’s accusation. “And he was a disgrace to the family business. Death was inevitable for him. It was just sooner than I anticipated.”

“You’re a sick bastard!”

Chris smirks, “Oh now, Victoria, what did I tell you about flattery?” Chris potions to a car parked a little ways down the driveway. “Now, you two are gonna be good children and you’re gonna get in that car with no fuss, understood?”

“Fuck you, we’re not doing anything.”

Chris raises an eyebrow at VIctoria’s response and walks over to David, who is also being held by two men. He puts the gun to David’s head. "Now, Victoria, I really do suggest that you cooperate. I’d hate for things to get messier than they already are." Chris presses the gun harder against David's skull, forcing him to tilt his head to the side. Tory freezes in place. For the first time in her life, she didn't know what to do. So she does nothing.

He smiles, appreciating her silence. “Good.” He removes the gun and takes a few steps towards the car. He turns to face the lot. “Lucky for you, the boss wants both of you. But if things were to go haywire, I’m sure he’d understand the circumstances.” A phone chirps and Chris rolls his eyes. He whips out his cell to read the text. He sighs and puts the phone back in his pocket. “Sorry, that was the boss. Seems as if there’s been a change in plans.”

Chris points the gun at David and pulls the trigger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry... I'm so so sorry...  
> I hate myself more than you probably hate me right now...
> 
> And I made this chapter super long coz I couldn't bring myself to break up the action scenes. It would ruin the flow.
> 
> But shout-out to my wonderful friend Nikki, who helped me work out the fighting itself ('cause I'm just horrible at words sometimes)


	12. Chapter 12

Knock knock knock.

_“Tory, it’s time for dinner.”_

_Victoria sat in her bed, her knees up and the blanket over them. She hugged her legs and rested her chin on her knees, staring at the wall across her room._

_David, hearing no response, sighed. He leaned against the door, resting his forehead on the wood barrier. “C’mon, Tory. You haven’t left the room all day. Is there something wrong?” No response. “The others didn’t notice, but when you came home late last night, you seemed… off. Did something happen?” No response. “Tory, please talk to me, you know you can tell me everything.”_

_Could she? Could she_ really _tell anyone, even her best friend, that she was kidnapped by some terrorist group out to get her, was rescued by a mysterious assassin who wants to help her, and that in the next couple days she’ll have to…_

 _“Tory,” David spoke softer. “You haven’t been yourself lately, and I’m really worried. Tory,_ please _talk to me.” No response. David sighed and put his back against the door and stood there in silence. He slid down until he was sitting on the floor, his elbows resting on his knees. Victoria took a deep and quietly got out of bed. She sat in front of her door, her back leaning against it._

 _“Hey,” David turns his head. “Remember_ _how, when we were little and I would sleep over, we would stay up all night when your parents though we were asleep. And we would talk all night. We’d talk and giggle and make hand shadow puppets. We’d read comic books and draw each other pictures. We’d do anything to avoid sleeping. Sometimes we wouldn’t get any sleep at all, and you’re parents would always be wondering why we were so tired, even though I’m sure they knew. It’s not like you’re a very soft laugher.”_

_David heard Victoria giggle from the other side of the door and chuckled himself. He sighed and his expression saddened. “Tory, what’s wrong?”_

_Tory closed her eyes and gently rested her head against the door._

_Hearing no response, David sighed and started to get up._

_“David.”_

_He stopped. “Yeah?”_

_Victoria took a deep breath. “Don’t worry about me, ok? You’ve done more than I can ever thank you for, and I love you with all my heart.” Victoria bit her bottom lip to stop herself from saying anymore.  She closes her eyes as tears rolled down her cheek._

_David smiled. “I love you too, lil sis.” He stood up and went downstairs, joining the rest of the family at the dinner table. Victoria smiled as the tears began to pour._

_If that was going to be her goodbye, she was content with it._

\-------------------------------------

 _"NOOOOO!"_

Victoria screams at the top of her lungs as she watches David’s lifeless body drop to the ground, a pool of blood slowly forming around him. Her vision becomes blurry and her whole body fills with rage as she violently struggles under the two men’s tight grasp.

Chris chuckles. “And there we have it. She is broken.”

Victoria glares at Chris, eyes filled with enormous amounts of malice and her body shaking, unable to say a word.

“Now, please,” Chris takes in her silence and smiles. “Get in the car, love.”

Victoria stares at Chris through her blurry vision. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“If you won’t go willingly,” Chris motions to the men holding Victoria. “Boys, would you mind?”

The men nod and force Victoria towards the car. She kicks behind her with her right foot, dislocating one of the men’s kneecaps. He releases his grip as he yelps in pain. Seeing the perfect opportunity, she elbows him across the face and kicks him straight on the chest, forcing him to the ground. The other man quickly grabs her free arm and pulls both arms behind her, his nails digging into her skin. Victoria jolts her head behind her, hitting the man’s nose. He stumbles back and Victoria roundhouse kicks him across the face. The remaining men prepare to fight.

  _Click._

 The men pause and Victoria looks over at Chris. His gun is cocked and pointed at Victoria. “Let’s stop with the petty games. I will shoot.”

 Victoria clenches and unclenches her fists and breathes heavily. She speaks in a low tone. “Go ahead then. Do it. I don’t think your boss will be to happy with the result.”

 “I don’t give a shit what my boss says anymore,” Chris says as he grips the gun tighter in his hand. “I've wanted to kill you from the start.”

 “Then shoot.” Victoria opens her arms. "Go ahead and shoot!"

_BANG!_

 Victoria shuts her eyes.

 Nothing.

She opens her eyes and watches as Chris drops the gun, clutches his chest, and falls to the ground. She sees John ways away, slowly lowering his gun. The next few moments happen very quickly. Armed police file onto the yard out of no where and surround them. A helicopter flies over and orders are given for Chris's men to lower their weapons. Looks like Mycroft got involved.

The remaining of Chris's men put their hands up in surrender. Victoria smiles as she sees the detective and the doctor make their way towards her. Suddenly, the last drop of adrenaline drains from her body. She suddenly has conscience over the excruciating pain from her wounds. She groans and falls to her knees, Sherlock and John rush over to her. 

\------------------------

A blanket is placed around Victoria as she sits on the back of an ambulance and she whips it off, throwing it on the ground. She huffs angrily. "Why does everyone keep putting these goddamn blankets around me? I don't need their pity."

"They're only trying to help." John says. "Now stay still." John finishes stitching up one of the cuts on Victoria's face. When the ambulance had arrived, Victoria refused to have any medic or doctor touch her except John. So while John stayed back with Victoria, Sherlock went ahead to examine the premises. "There. All done." John smiles down on Victoria and begins cleaning up the medical supplies.

Victoria looks up at John. "Thank you, John."

"Of course." 

"No really," John stops what he's doing and looks at Victoria, whose eyes are filled with much gratitude and a hint of sorrow. She continues. "Thank you. And... and I'm sorry for being such a bitch to you. Really, I am." 

John puts his hand on Victoria's,  which is sitting on her lap. "Don't worry about it, Victoria." 

Victoria smiles. "Call me Tory." 

John smiles back at her. 

The two direct their attention to the entrance of the abandoned building as Sherlock walks out and barks orders at some of the policemen. Victoria stands up and starts walking towards him. 

"Are you ok?" John asked, looking her over with concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Doesn't hurt as much." She replies as they make their way to Sherlock, Victoria with a slight limp in her walk, her arms wrapped around herself. 

"So?" John asks the detective. 

Sherlock just looks at Victoria with solemn eyes. She looks down, knowing the answer. Sherlock removes his coat and places it on Victoria's shoulders. He then embraces her, resting his chin on her head. John is shocked to see this behavior coming from Sherlock, but is touched to see such a caring and brotherly side of the sociopath. 

“Uh, Mr. Holmes.” A policeman taps Sherlock on the shoulder. Sherlock releases his grip and turns to the man. He holds out a plastic evidence bag with something inside. “We found this in, what we gathered to be, Chris’s office. We’ve already taken what we need from it, but we figured you’d want the remains.” The man glances over at Victoria with remorse as Sherlock grabs the bag. 

Sherlock looks it over for a moment before stuffing it into his back pocket. He nods at the man, “Thank you.” The man nods back, and takes another apologetic glance at Victoria before walking away. Sherlock turns back to Victoria and John. “I was thinking Chinese takeout tonight.” 

Victoria smiles. “I’m down.” 

John nodds. “Fine by me.” 

Sherlock looks between the two of them and smirks. “Good.” 

\-------------------------------- 

Sherlock calls Mrs. Hudson ahead of time to ask her to make them some tea. After explaining to the landlady as briefly as possible the situation, she immediately agrees. The three walk into the flat, Chinese take out in hand, and are greeted with fresh tea and biscuits on the table. A clean pair of sweats also sits on the couch for Victoria. Victoria takes a shower and joins the two men in dinner.

The three talk for hours, John trying to keep the conversation light and Victoria distracted, and Sherlock observing the two of them, pitching into the conversation every now and again. John begins to yawn more as the time nears dawn. He checks Victoria’s stitches and wounds once more before wishing the other two goodnight- well, more like goodmorning- and heading upstairs to bed. 

Sherlock and Victoria sit in the room in silence, neither feeling a need to start conversation. Finally, Sherlock gets up from his chair. “I’m off to bed as well.” 

Victoria smiles at him. “Goodnight, Sherlock.” 

Sherlock nods and makes his way to his room. He pauses after a few steps, remembering something. He reaches into his back pocket and walks over to the couch, where Victoria sits with her knees to her chest and a blanket wrapped around her. He hands her the police evidence bag. “Here.” 

Victoria takes it and looks up at Sherlock. “What is it?” 

“Just look through it.” Sherlock turns and continues his way to his room. “Goodnight, Tory,” he says before he leaves the room.

Victoria opens the plastic bag and takes out a brown wallet. She opens it up and takes out one of the cards. It’s David’s library card. She quickly glances up in the direction that Sherlock left before looking back down at the card, eyebrows furrowed. Why would he give her David’s wallet? The corners of her mouth raise slightly as she looks at the picture on the card. He had such a goofy smile. 

The rest of the wallet is mostly empty. She opens the section that would usually hold money and takes out a photo of her and David. It’s from a Halloween party in third grade. Victoria and David’s moms dressed the two up as Sandy and Danny from Grease, even though Victoria isn’t a blonde. The two moms worked so hard, which didn’t go to waste. The young pair won best costume (each winning a gift card to Toys-R-Us). Victoria smiles as she remembers taking the picture, right after they won the award. They were the happiest kids alive. Victoria wipes away a tear that trickles down her face. 

Theres something else in the pocket. She takes out a folded piece of paper. She unfolds it, noticing that it’s a page ripped out of a book. She starts to read it, but soon her vision becomes blurry as she realizes what it is. 

\----------------------------------- 

_“Hey, Tory, what time is it?” David whispered._

_“Uuuuum,” Victoria looked over at the clock on her side of the bed. “It’s almost eleven o’clock,” she whispered back._

_David sat up and turned to Victoria. “I’m still not tired.”_

_“Me neither.”_

_“What should we do?”_

_“Hmmmm…” Victoria sat up and whispered, “Oh! Lemme show you something my daddy got me!”_

_“Ok!”_

_Victoria quietly got out of bed and tiptoed her way to her bookshelf. She climbed on top of a chair and grabbed a book that was sitting on the top shelf. She quietly climbed back down and made her way back to the bed._

_“What’s that?” David whispered, looking at the big, vintage looking book in amazement._

_“It’s a book full of poems.” Victoria’s eyes lit up. “My daddy said he found it at a bookstore that sold old books. He said that it has a bunch of poems that a bunch of people wrote.”_

_“Coooool!”_

_“You wanna see my favorite one?” Victoria flipped through the book until she found the page she had dog-eared. “It’s also my daddy’s favorite. He reads it to me all the time.”_

I shot an arrow into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For, so swiftly it flew, the sight

Could not follow it in its flight.

 

I breathed a song into the air,

It fell to earth, I knew not where;

For who has sight so keen and strong,

That it can follow the flight of song?

 

Long, long afterward, in an oak

I found the arrow, still unbroke;

And the song, from beginning to end,

I found again in the heart of a friend.

 

_David furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t get it.”_

_“I don’t either.” Victoria admitted. “But my daddy said it’s a poem about friendship. He said that, um… that it’s about a very strong friendship that didn’t break after a really long time. And even though one person was sad, like he lost his arrow and his song or something, his other friend had it and he was happy again. I mean, I think…”  Victoria furrowed her eyebrows and scratched her head. “I think that’s what he said.”_

_“I like it!” David smiled. “It reminds me of us! You lose things all the time. And I always find them.”_

_“Hey!” Victoria said to David upsetly. She quickly covered her mouth, realizing that she was too loud._

_The two kids sat there in silence until they figured it was safe to whisper again._

_David flipped through a few pages of the book. “There are a lot of big words in here.”_

_“I know. I only really read this with my daddy, so I can ask him what things mean. But I know two poems so far. This and a poem about two yellow roads with… trees and a traveler or something. I don’t really remember.”_

_“Cool!” David closed the book and looked at Victoria. “Did your dad get you any new comics?”_

_“Oh, yeah! He got me an old Avengers comic from the bookstore.”_

_“Yesss!” David threw his fists in the air in excitement. He quickly covered his mouth, again, for being too loud._

_The two kids looked at each other and giggled._

 

**END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there we have it! The Surrogate Sister.
> 
> The poems mentioned by Young Victoria are The Arrow and the Song by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow and The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost, two of my favorite poems. (The Arrow and the Song was actually a song the Men's Ensemble of my high school choir sang for competition my freshman year... another reason why it's one of my favorites)
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this ride with me. Kudos if you've been following this since it first started in December(:
> 
> A big thank you to my friend Nikki (Tumblr url thatpunnyperson) for guiding me through this. She's definitely influenced my writing... and whether that's for the better or for the worse is for you to decide(:
> 
> I would love to hear your feedback, by the way :D
> 
> Love you all, and thank you for reading <3


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE!
> 
> Got one more chapter here for you.

Victoria steps out of a big, black SUV. She takes a deep breath as she is welcomed by the warm California sun. It usually wouldn’t be this hot in November, but Southern California weather is very unpredictable. She didn’t realize how much she missed it until now. She reaches into her small black purse and grabs out a compact mirror and a lipstick, proceeding to reapply the deep red onto her lips.

She puts the objects back in her purse and crosses the street, making her way towards the church. Before entering, she makes sure to check her clothing. A black, elbow length sleeve lace dress partnered with classic black Christian Louboutins. She has her hair up in an intricate bun and wears a small, yet stylish hat with a black veil to cover her face. She stands up tall and steps inside the church. She finds an empty pew towards the back and sits.

It’s a sad scene, with audible sobbing and nose blowing. Some stand up and share heartbreaking stories, others tell light-hearted memories. A rollercoaster of emotions play out around Victoria. She never did quite like going to funerals.

At the end of the service, the pastor offers loved ones to come to the casket to pay their respects. It's not an open casket, of course, given the circumstances of how he died. But the casket is covered in the most beautiful and colorful collection of flowers.

Victoria sits as she watches friends and family file out of the room. When she is sure she is alone, she gets up and makes her way to the casket.

David is in there. _Her_ David. Her best friend, and the one she held most dearly to her heart. She wants so badly to open up the casket and look at him one last time. He'd probably be dressed in the nicest of suits, looking as dapper as ever.

Peaceful. He'd probably also look very peaceful. Like he’d simply just been sleeping the whole time. And any moment we would open his eyes and embrace her in that welcoming bear hug she loves so much.

Except that’s never going to happen. He’s dead, and Victoria knows very well that it’s all her fault.

She goes into her purse and pulls out a peach-colored rose, a black bow tied around the short and thornless stem. She clutches it tightly as tears begin to fill her eyes. She delicately places the rose on the casket.

“I’m… I’m so sorry.” A tear rolls down her cheek. She takes a deep breath and turns to walk out of the church. A girl stands feet away, staring at Victoria.

“Tory?”

The girl glares at her with glassy eyes. Elizabeth. David’s little sister. Well, not so little anymore. She looks about sixteen years old now.

Victoria just smiles. “Hey, Lizzie.”

“It is you!” Elizabeth rushes into Victoria’s arms. "David _was_ right."

Victoria chuckles, “Wow, you've grown up!”

Elizabeth takes a step back, tears rolling down her confused face. “But…”

“Shh,” Victoria places her finger in front of her lips. “You can’t tell anyone I’m here.”

“But why not? You’re alive! Don’t you think we deserve the great news right now.”

“No, hun. you can't tell anyone. It's for your safety.”

“Safety?” Elizabeth cocked her head slightly. “Safe from what?”

Victoria caresses Elizabeth's cheeks in her hands and wipes the tears from under her eyes with her thumb. “I’m so sorry for any pain I may have caused. But I’m gonna need you to trust me on this one. I can’t come back.” Elizabeth drops her head. Victoria lifts her chin. “Hey, you're a big girl, I know you'll get through this."

"What actually happened to David?"

Victoria is thrown off by the question. "What do you mean?"

"The police report said he was caught between a gang shooting or whatever." Elizabeth looks at Victoria straight in the eyes. "That's not what happened, was it."

Just like her brother, always searching for the truth. Victoria takes a deep breath, planning her next words carefully. "He was following a hunch. And he,” Victoria paused, carefully choosing her words. “Took the, um… unpleasant path."

"He was looking for you, wasn't he."

Victoria nods her head.

"Did he find you?"

Victoria smiles, her eyes tearing up, and nods.

Elizabeth just nods. No need to ask anymore questions. She understands.

Victoria puts her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders.  "We’ll see each other again.”

“Promise?”

Victoria smiles. “Only if you promise to keep the secret.”

She holds up her pinky and Elizabeth stares at it. A pinky promise. Victoria only ever offered the pinky promise when it was something really important. Elizabeth smiles and clasps her pinky with Victoria’s. They hug once more before Elizabeth runs back out to join the mourning guests. Victoria takes a deep breath, wipes below her eyes and walks out of the church unnoticed.

She crosses the street and makes her way to the black SUV. The driver steps out and opens the car door for her. As she's about to step in, she sees something out of the corner of her eye. She looks over to find a man, dressed in what looks like a very expensive light gray suit, leaning against a tree with his hands in his pockets. She makes eye contact with him and he smiles.

Victoria turns to the driver. "Give me a few minutes."

The driver nods. "Yes, miss."

Victoria walks over to the man, his smile growing as she gets closer. She stops a couple meters away, arms crossed. "What are you do I here?"

"Well, hello to you too, Victoria." The man responds, his Irish accent ringing in the air around them.

Victoria raises her eyebrow impatiently and asks again, "What are you doing here?"

The man looks over at the church. "Paying my respects." He turns back to Victoria. "Such a shame what happened to him." Victoria eyes bore into his, full of anger. The man smirks and walks towards Victoria until they're only inches apart. "I'm also here for you."

Victoria raises an eyebrow. "Why me?"

"Because you're so interesting." He looks Victoria up an down. "And useful."

"Well, you can't have me." Victoria responds. "I've already got a boss."

"British government, I know. Pity." The man sighs. "You'd be perfect for us." He licks his lips and smiles. "Perfect for me."

Victoria smirks. "Is _this_ the 'charm' that Ava fell so deeply for?" She huffed. "And she was judging _me_ on my choice of men."

The man chuckles. "Oh yes, Ava, she was very useful. And fun." He raises an eyebrow. "An absolute shame what happened to her as well." The smirk on Victoria's face disappears. The man continues, "You see, I run a multitude of networks. Think of it as a... spider web of sorts. You're already very familiar with one of them. The Eye of Re?" Victoria's eyes grow wide. "Yes,” The man sighs frustratedly. “A failure that one turned out to be. Very disappointing."

"You..."

"Yes, that was all me. Glad the pieces are finally coming together for you."

"You killed Ava."

"Yes I did."

"You killed David."

"Yes, dear, I've killed plenty. People die." The man looks down on Victoria and smirks. "That's what people do." He takes a deep breath. "Alas, I'm never one to get my hands dirty. I just plan and bark orders."

“Shouldn’t you be dead?”

The man raises his eyebrow. “Shouldn’t you?”

Victoria hesitates for a moment, caught off guard by the comeback. She uncrosses her arms and stares at the man. "Why are you here?"

"Because I want you."

"I already said, you can't have me."

"Oh, but I can. And I will." The man lifts Victoria's chin and leans in closer. "You see, Victoria, I always get what I want. No matter the cost."

"And what makes you think I'd come with you willingly?"

The man smirks and leans down next to her ear. His hot breath against Victoria's neck makes her spine shiver. He murmurs in a low, husky voice. "Because everyone has a dark side, dear, and yours is more dominant than you realize." He leans back and smiles. "You'll be seeing me again very soon, Victoria. Until then," he releases Victoria's chin and grabs her hand. "I bid you adieu." He kisses the back of her hand, keeping eye contact. Victoria just stares back refusing to show any reaction.

The man turns and Victoria watches as he walks away. He pauses and turns back to her.

“You think that keeping your loved ones in the dark will keep them safe. When in fact, by doing so, it only makes it that much easier to, oh I don’t know... grab a pair of shoes.” The man grins, turns back, and continues walking.

Victoria clenches and unclenches her fist, trying to control her emotions. She takes a deep breath closing her eyes for a few moments. When she opens them, the man is gone. She murmurs to herself.  
  
"Moriarty."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So then... what does this mean?
> 
> Well, I'll tell you now that you haven't heard the last of Victoria...


	14. Sneak peek of sequel "The Man in White"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (EDIT 2/22/15) So consider this an update if you've already read this. I have decided on the title, as well as the main plot of the fic. And boy, let me tell ya... y'all are really in for a hell of a ride for this one. Words cannot describe how excited I am to write this.
> 
> Now, in terms of the title... If anyone is familiar with the folklore The Woman in White... there's a HUGE hint of what's to come.
> 
> Although I have written some chapters already, it will still be a while before I post anything. Being the perfectionist and the stickler on continuity that I am, I wanna make sure that I have everything down before putting it out for the public to read.
> 
> BUT UNTIL THEN, here ya go! Enjoy!

A lot can happen in three years. Like John meeting Mary Morstan, a woman he fell in love with so dearly, and proposed to a year later. A wedding turned murder investigation followed shortly after, with Sherlock as the best man. Not very surprising the turn out of that whole event.

Victoria unfortunately missed all of this, not to her request, but Mycroft's. Doing job after job for the man nonstop. Not that she'd ever complain, she loves what she does. It's just unfortunate that she hasn't visited Baker Street in so long.

Luckily, John had managed to keep her up to date through emails, calls, letters, whatever way possible. Sherlock would talk to her on the phone every so often, but Victoria knows he's not one for small talk so she didn't expect much out of him.

It was Mycroft, however, who had filled her in on the news John clearly didn't want to share. The news about Mary and Moriarty. (Of course, Moriarty being back wasn't much of a surprise to her.)

But after three years of separation from the people she now calls her family, she is finally able to come home. Mycroft has given her two months off starting late December. Victoria told John as soon as she found out, and they made arrangements for him to pick her up from the airport Christmas Day. Mrs. Hudson also insisted that Victoria stay in John's old room for the next couple months.

\------------------

When they reach and open the front door to 221 Baker Street, they are immediately welcomed by the strong scent of chocolate chip cookies.

The door to Mrs. Hudson's flat flies open as John shuts the front door. Mrs. Hudson walks out, apron and oven mitts on, with a huge smile her face. She opens her arms and rushes towards Victoria. 

"Hello, dear!"

The two embrace. "Hi Mrs. Hudson."

The landlady let's go and takes a step back to examine Victoria. "You look well!"

John lightly nudges Victoria. "I'll bring your bags up to the room." Victoria thanks him as he walks up the stairs.

Mrs. Hudson grabs Victoria's hand with both of her's. "It really is such a pleasure to see you again, dear."

Victoria smiles and places her hand on top of the landlady's. "I've really missed you guys."

Mrs. Hudson gently squeezes Victoria's hands. "We've missed you too." She turns towards the stairs. "Sherlock is upstairs. Go on and say hi. I'm sure he'll be very happy to see you."

Victoria smiles and releases her grip, making her way up the stairs and slowly walking towards the flat. She stops at the door and leans against the door frame. Sherlock is sitting in his chair, his eyes closed. His elbows rest on the arms of the chair and his palms are together, fingers resting on his chin. He's deep in thought. Victoria knows better than to disturb him. She knocks on the door anyway.

"Go away, I'm busy." Sherlock says, his eyes remaining closed.

"Well, hello to you too."

Sherlock's eyes fly open. "Oh! Hello, Victoria."

"Hello again, Sherlock." Victoria crosses her arms. "Long time, no see."

"How was your flight?" Sherlock asks, his gaze moving to the kitchen, deep in thought.

"Eh." Victoria takes a few steps in. "It was alright. Nothing exciting."

"Hm."

"How about you? What have you been up to?"

"Oh, same old." Sherlock's cell chirps and he whips it out to read the message. "John!" He calls out as he gets up and walks to the door.

John walks into the room? "Yeah?"

"Lestrade needs us at Scotland Yard." Sherlock says as he throws on his infamous coat and scarf. John reaches over and grabs his jacket off the hanger as Sherlock rushes out the door. 

John looks over at Victoria. "We won't be long," he reassures her.

Victoria smiles. She remembers this all too well. "Just go. And don't enjoy yourself too much."

John smiles and walks out the door. Victoria takes a deep breath and places her hands in her pockets. She looks around the room. It's the same flat she had left three years ago. Nothing much has changed at all.

Suddenly, Victoria hears footsteps behind her. She turns to find Sherlock at the door.

"It really is great to see you again, Tory," he says, a warm smile in his face.

Victoria walks over and pulls him into a hug. Sherlock wraps his arms around her tight. "And I apologize for leaving like this."

Victoria chuckles, "It's fine, I totally understand." She lifts her head and looks up at Sherlock. "Now go. Scotland Yard needs you." She smiles. "Go save Christmas."

Sherlock chuckles and kisses her forehead before releasing his grip. "We won't be long."

"Just go." Victoria insists, and she watches as Sherlock runs down the stairs and out the door.

\----------------

Victoria looks around the room, her eyebrows furrowed. "Where's John?"

"John got held up at the office." Sherlock pauses. He hears the faint sound of a car door slamming. "But it looks like The Watsons have arrived."

Shortly after, John runs up the stairs and enters holding Olivia in his arm. Everyone greets him and moves towards him to say hello to little Watson, who is wearing the cutest of Holiday dresses.

"Where's Mary?" Mrs. Hudson asks after a few moments of pinching Olivia's cheeks.

"She's getting the presents and food out of the trunk." John replies.

"I'll go help her out." Lestrade volunteers as he begins walking out of the room.

"Thanks Greg." John turns to Victoria. "Look, Ollie! It's Auntie Tory! Say hi!"

Victoria smiles and moves closer to them. "Hi Ollie." She wiggles Olivia's little hand with her finger. Olivia smiles and lightly grabs the finger as Victoria continues to wiggle it. "It's very nice to finally meet you, Olivia." Victoria's eyes grow wide. 

Lestrade walks in holding a casserole dish in one hand and a few box presents in the other. 

"Here, I got it." Victoria grabs the dish from Lestrade and brings it into the kitchen. Lestrade sets the presents down on the coffee table and brings the dish to the kitchen.

"There she is!" Victoria hears John say in the other room.

"Merry Christmas everyone!" A woman's voice exclaims.

Figuring that this is Mary, Victoria quickly sets the casserole dish down and runs out into the living room. She makes eye contact with the blonde woman standing next to John.

Victoria freezes.

And Mary's eyes grow wide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooo and what could this possibly MEAN??
> 
> You're just gonna have to wait and find out, huh? It's gonna be a long wait, though... but we're all use to these types of waits anyway.
> 
> The Sherlock fandom has adapted to such patience haha XD


End file.
